


Sledgehammer

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Series: The Captain and The Valkyrie Queen [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Mind Games, Shameless Smut, Smut, Songfic, Swearing, lying, тэг заменён на Don't copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 06:42:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 49,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17038706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: A dance party of Tony’s takes a turn when a joke is played which you don’t find funny, causing you to reveal a long kept secret. After kicking the crap out of Garry, the one who played the prank, will the man let it go? Or will he go to even greater heights to hurt and destroy what you’re finally building?All warnings are given at the top of the chapter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a One-Shot based on the song Sledgehammer, now a series and playlist due to popular request.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Foul language, small angst, mostly fluff
> 
> Songs: Can’t Feel My Face by The Weekend, Sledgehammer by Fifth Harmony, There’s Nothing Holding Me Back by Shawn Mendes

## Steve Rogers x Reader Fic

* * *

Your heart pounded in your chest, racing in time to the music. The bass thudding, beat heavy, sultry lyrics floating through the air. Sweat glistened on your skin as you danced with Wanda and Natasha.

Tony always threw the best parties. 

Food, drinks, and music abounded. You got to dress to the nines, fabulous clothes and shoes which made your legs look divine. There was nothing like it, in your estimation.  

The only thing which would make your night better would be if the tall blond soldier standing by the bar would come dance with you, but Steve was the stoic, brooding Captain you knew and loved.  

Not that he knew you loved him. Everyone else did, but not Steve. The man was oblivious.  

You refused to think about it. Not tonight. Not while you were feeling gloriously loose after a couple of rounds of blueberry vodka. Okay, more than a couple. 

Slinging your arm around Wanda’s neck, you laughed when you felt Natasha’s wrap around your waist. The three of you moved in sync, undulating together when Can’t Feel My Face by The Weekend came on. It was, quite honestly, dirty as sin on a Sunday, but you didn’t care.  

They were gorgeous, sexy, and you felt the same sandwiched between sparkling red sequins and sleek black silk. You knew each other so well, had worked with both Nat and Wanda on so many missions, reading their moves and turning up the smoulder was cake. 

You could feel eyes on you, but the flashing lights made it nearly impossible to see who or where. It didn’t matter anyway. You only had eyes for one person, and the eyes on you certainly weren’t his. 

When the song ended you cheered for the DJ, clapping and whistling along with the rest of the revellers. Feeling overheated, and a little turned on if you were honest with yourself, you waved the girls off, heading for the exterior doors.  

Cool air washed over your heated skin, wicking the sweat away. Breathing a sigh of relief, you walked toward the balcony railing to take in the view of New York.  

The city was beautiful from this vantage point. 

When the jacket came down on your shoulders, you smiled at Tony. “I was cooling down, but thanks.” 

“Don’t need you catching a chill, (Y/N),” he smirked, turning to lean against the rail and stare back at his party. “You should just ask star-spangled capcicle to dance. You know you want to.” 

“And yet I never do. You should give up, old man. I have,” you murmured. “That’s a hopeless endeavour. A foolish one, too.” 

“You’re giving up, kid? There’s something I never thought I’d see.” 

You turned and rested your hip against the glass. “Some of us know when it’s time to call it. What’s the point in continuing to break my heart?” 

He patted your hand. “I don’t know, kid. He’s dense. Maybe all that time in the ice froze a few brain cells.” 

“He’s not dense, Tony. He’s smarter than I am. The man’s a different kind of genius than you, but he’s still a genius,” you said defensively. 

“Says the girl who’s “giving up.'” He even used air quotes. 

Frowning, you muttered, “F you, Stark.”

“Ah ah ah, that’s no way to speak to your host,” he teased, stealing his jacket back as he walked away. “You coming?” 

“Not yet. Let the vodka clear a little more first.” You waved him off, turning back to the view. 

The door opened, blasting music, only to close as one of your favourite songs came on. Muted, it was still loud enough to hear the words.

> _If you could take my pulse right now_  
>  It would feel just like a sledgehammer  
>  If you could feel my heartbeat now  
>  It would hit you like a sledgehammer  
>    
>  I don’t admit it  
>  I play it cool  
>  But every minute  
>  That I’m with you

Swinging your hips, you sing along, feeling the words resonate in your soul. It was just how you felt about Steve.

> _I feel the fever and I won’t lie_  
>  I break a sweat  
>  My body’s telling  
>  All the secrets I ain’t told you yet  
>    
>  I struggle to contain  
>  The love that’s in my veins  
>  And how it circulates 

Every time you had to face him in a spar, your skin grew hot, a flush filled your face, sweat glistened on your flesh. It was such a dead give away you’d taken to warming up hard on a treadmill or elliptical so that you had an excuse for your appearance.

> _If you could take my pulse right now_  
>  It would feel just like a sledgehammer  
>  If you could feel my heartbeat now  
>  It would hit you like a sledgehammer 
> 
> _You’re taken over the beat of my body_  
>  You just don’t let up, don’t let up  
>  You’re taken over the beat of my body  
>  But you lift me up, lift me up  
>  If you take my pulse right now  
>  It would feel just like a sledgehammer  
>    
>  So close together  
>  So far apart  
>  You’re turning me on  
>  And my fire’s waitin’ for your spark

He was a sweetheart when he wasn't a teasing shit. Between Steve, Bucky, and Sam, someone was always laughing, pranking, joking. It was always in fun. Steve had been on the receiving end of the not so nice kind so much when he was still _the little guy_ , he was well aware of everyone’s touchy spots, making sure no one ever crossed a line they shouldn’t.

> _I struggle to contain_  
>  The love that’s in my veins  
>  And how it circulates  
>    
>  If you could take my pulse right now  
>  It would feel just like a sledgehammer  
>  If you could feel my heartbeat now  
>  It would hit you like a sledgehammer 
> 
> _You’re taken over the beat of my body_  
>  You just don’t let up, don’t let up  
>  You’re taken over the beat of my body  
>  But you lift me up, lift me up  
>  If you take my pulse right now  
>  It would feel just like a sledgehammer

Closing your hands around the guardrail, you swing your hips, drop it low. Throwing your head back, you rise, arching up, thrusting your ass back. Lifting your hands, you drag them over your thighs, across your stomach, over the tight bodice of your deep blue dress. Raising them high in the air, you twist them above you, beckoning, commanding, enticing. Had there been anyone to join you, you were certain they would have.

> _The truth is out_  
>  No stopping now  
>  I’m getting closer  
>  I’ve had enough  
>  Undress my love  
>  I’m coming over  
>    
>  If you take my pulse right now  
>  It would feel just like a sledgehammer,  
>  And if you take my pulse right now  
>  It would feel just like a sledgehammer, hammer,  
>    
>  If you take my pulse

When the hands came down on your waist, you froze, but they tugged you back, plastered you back first to a wide, warm chest and gently aroused body. The hips attached to the hands urged you back into the dance, urged you to follow his.

Throwing caution to the wind, you did so, getting back into the swift swing and rotation.

He was good; you’d give him that, keeping time with you and moving as if you’d been partnered for years.

You weren’t sure how he’d managed to sneak outside without you noticing the door, but with your alcohol-hazed mind, and determination to forget all about Captain America and his beefy bod, you sank back into whoever was behind you and let go.

> _If you could take my pulse right now  
>  It would feel just like a sledgehammer _
> 
> _If you could feel my heartbeat now  
>  It would hit you like a sledgehammer _
> 
> _You’re taken over the beat of my body_  
>  You just don’t let up, don’t let up  
>  You’re taken over the beat of my body  
>  But you lift me up, lift me up  
>  If you take my pulse right now  
>  It would feel just like a sledgehammer

When the music ended, you sighed. It had been nice to dance with someone who knew how to move. The next song started, and _silent but sassy_ moved you into a second dance, the song, There’s Nothing Holding Me Back by Shawn Mendes pounded through the glass, requiring much more active footwork.

This time as you bumped and ground your way through the quick changes and flying feet, your body still held back first against his, you noticed something peculiar. He smelled familiar. Like… _really_ familiar. Suddenly, he spun you around, and you stared up into Steve’s blue eyes in shock.  

“Steve!” you squeaked in surprise. 

There was a dark light, a sensual gleam to his eyes you’d never seen before. He dragged you back to his chest, dipping you back over his arm. When he swung you back up, you reached instinctively for his shoulder, ending up with your hand at the back of his neck. “You okay, (Y/N)? Bucky sent me to check on you, but… then that dance…” A flush darkened his cheeks.  

“Oh.” Hope flared and died within seconds of each other. Of course, Bucky had sent him. “I’m fine, Steve just hot and a little tipsy. Needed some air.” 

“You shouldn’t overdo it.” 

Pulling away, you straightened the hem of your dress. “I’m perfectly aware of what I can and can’t handle, Cap.” Turning on your heel, heart hammering in your chest which had nothing to do with the dancing, you made three steps before finding yourself plastered to Steve’s chest a second time. 

His lips were near your ear, but it was difficult to understand him over the surging of your blood. “Did you wear that colour for me?” 

Freezing in place, you gaped at the glass wall which reflected your image. “Steve?” 

“The blue. It’s the same colour as my Stealth Suit.” His arms tightened, refusing to release you. 

“How much of Thor’s liquor have you had?” you asked. It was the only possible explanation for why he was acting this way. 

“Not much,” he murmured, nipping your earlobe.  

Slamming your elbow back, you took it to his ribs, causing the man behind you to let go when he grabbed for his middle. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but you’re not Steve,” you snarled, hands coming up defensively.  

He laughed a chuckle which broke into a wide grin. “Pretty good, (Y/N).” 

The glamour fell away, and you glared at Garry, one of the Inhuman’s who’d been recruited by SHIELD. “You ever pull a stunt like this again, I will kick your ass so hard you won’t be able to wear _pants_ let alone sit down!” 

“Awe, come one. It was all in good fun! Jeez, lighten up,” he grumbled, sauntering toward the door.  

Glaring after him momentarily, you turned back to the view, needing to clear the anger from your head before returning inside — what a jerk. 

When the door opened and closed, only to open again moments later, you continued to ignore whoever had joined you. When Steve leaned against the rail, you glared at him. “That’s not funny!” 

“What’s not funny? I haven’t said anything,” he frowned. 

“You’re an _asshole_ , Garry!” You threw a hard right hook, determined to follow through on your threat when a hand flashed out and caught your fist. 

“Damn, doll. If you didn’t want company, you could’ve just said something.” 

“Steve!” you gasped in shock. 

“Uh, yeah?” Clearly perplexed, he looked at you like you’d lost your mind. 

“Oh, man! I’m so sorry! Garry was just out here pulling his parlour trick, pretending to be you and I told him I’d kick his ass if he did it again. I didn’t mean to try and hit _you_ , Steve.” 

“Me?” he muttered. “Why would he mimic me?”

Flushing red, you moved away. “I, uh, I don’t know.” Wow, that was convincing.

“(Y/N),” his hand wrapped around your wrist, drawing your eyes back to his when he gave a sharp tug. “How’d you know?”

“Know?” you asked stupidly.

“That he wasn’t me,” Steve asked, tucking a curl back behind your ear.

Staring at him, lost in the colour of his eyes, you managed to whisper, “He smelt wrong.”

A smirk flirted with his lips. “Really?”

“Yeah. I recognized his cologne, but when I turned around and saw you, then there was the stuff he said,” you rapidly shook your head when his eyes hardened, “never mind. It’s not important.”

“What did the little shit say?” he demanded, moving closer, backing you into the rail.

“N-nothing!”

“Clearly it was something. Remind me to kick the punk’s ass next time we’re partnered together.”

“No!” you blurted, knowing Garry was just vindictive enough to spill your secrets. “No, no… it’s… it’s fine. Just a joke.”

He frowned. “Dollface?” Hesitantly, Steve gently cupped your cheek causing a red flush to fill your face. “It wasn’t a very nice joke, was it?”

Looking down and away, you felt your heart wrench painfully. Right here, this was why you couldn’t let go. He was so damn sweet, so fucking nice! “Damn it!” you hissed softly, jerking your face from his hand, turning away from him, unable in your slightly inebriated state to look at him without having your heartbreak. “I can’t do this anymore…” you breathed out, shaking with the force it was taking to hold yourself together.

“Do what, sweetheart?” he leaned closer, his chest coming down against your back.

The scent wafted across your nose. “You fucking _shit_!” Your elbow cracked into Garry’s face. Spinning around as the little dick stumbled back, losing his glamour a second time, you flew at him, the blows landing fast and furious until you roundhouse kicked his ass into the window.

He hit hard, but the glass was reinforced, seeing him rounding off and straight into your fist again.

The door slammed open as Bucky and Sam charged through it. Bucky dragged you off Garry, fists and feet still flying as you struggled against him. “Easy, slugger! What the hell did he do?”

“He’s a punk piece of _ass_! I’ll kill him!” you shrieked, wanting nothing more than to tear his eyes out.

“What he do, (Y/N)?” Sam asked, dragging Garry up by the arm and twisting it behind his back to keep him there when the man struggled.

“He played _Steve_! Twice!” you snarled, still fighting the hold Bucky had around your waist. The angry tears streaming down your face didn’t register until you had to sniffle.

Both men froze, knowing exactly why this was so painful, why you’d flown right of the handle, why you’d practically beaten Garry bloody.

“Why would that upset you so much, (Y/N)?”

That voice, cold and clipped, coming in his Captain’s tone sank like a stone in your chest. It had you clinging to Bucky. Where once you’d been fighting for freedom, now you were desperate for protection.

“Tell him,” Bucky murmured against your ear.

“I can’t,” you hissed back.

“Tell him, or I will,” he threatened.

You nodded slowly, deflating, unable to look at Steve as Bucky’s arms released you. But you couldn't do it, couldn't confess everything and have him look at you in shock and pity. You step away from Bucky and rabbit, bolting through the still open door back into the party. It’s easy to run now as your three-inch stilettos came off when you’d gone after Garry.

Using every ounce of training you possessed, every special skill you knew, you snaked your way through the party, around the dancers, and beelined for the elevators as your name rang out loudly behind you.

The doors had just closed, people having gotten on as you approached. Cursing the bad timing, you hit the entrance to the stairwell instead, launching yourself through it, only to slam straight into Thor, careening off the beefy Asgardian and into the wall hard enough to make you yelp.

“(Y/N)!” he gasped, taking you by the arms. “Are you alright? What is wrong?”

“I can’t… I have to…” you struggled, breathing hard.

“Who has so upset you? Point me his direction! I will see he pays for distressing a lady!” the blond God snarled, his grip unbreakable.

Steve slammed through the door at his back. “(Y/N)!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs only to slide to a stop when he saw Thor holding you against the wall.

“Steve? You are the one who has so distressed Lady (Y/N)?” Thor asked in disbelief.

“Apparently, yes,” he said, looking at you questioningly. “Why don’t you give us a minute so I can fix it.”

Perplexed at this turn of events, Thor nodded. “See that you do, Captain.”

You slid down the wall when he released you, sinking to the floor where you pressed your face to your knees. This is so not your night.

A large body joined you, legs stretched out, so you were cornered. There’s no way you could get past him, not that he’d let you at this point.

Tears of horrified embarrassment wet the hem of your dress. The dress you’d chosen because, yes, it was the colour of his stealth suit.

“What’s going on, doll?” he asked gently, the question coming in a soothing, soft voice.

You sighed and turned your head, resting your cheek on your knees. “I’m a fool, that’s what’s going on. I’m a fool.”

His fingers carding through your hair made you shiver. “Why?”

“Because… everyone knows. Everyone but you can see it. Garry just took it too far. I’m a fool, and he played the _perfect_ trick because he knew he could…”

“What can’t I see?” he asked.

You flinched, unable to help yourself. You pull away as far as you can and curl up tighter. “That I’m,” your breath hitched hard and shuddered free, “in love with you.”

His hand went still. “What?” The shock in his voice said it all.

Wiping your face on your dress, it’s ruined now anyway, you brushed past his legs, and hurried toward the stairs. “Don’t worry, Cap. I’ll request a transfer first thing.” You left him sitting on the stairs as you dashed down them, needing out of this hell of your own making.

You only made it four floors when the body landed behind you in the stairwell. Arms of steel swung you up, pressed you back into the wall, and kept you dangling there as his large frame pinned your shocked one to the wall.

“No.” The word was as final and solid as a brick. “You can’t leave.”

“I can’t stay!” you cried, voice hoarse with emotion.

“You have to!” he commanded.

“Why!?

“Because I love you too, you stubborn woman!” he barked, panting gently.

You stared at him in disbelief. “What?”

“I think the only one who didn’t know was _you_!” he shouted, shaking you a little.

“Well, I know you’re the only one who didn’t know how I felt!” you shouted back.

“Well, ain’t we just a pair,” he muttered before taking your mouth in a bruising kiss.

You threw your arms around his neck and moaned into his mouth. Seconds, minutes, hours seem to go by as teeth and tongues and lips meshed in a sensual dance months in the making. Finally, when air became imperative, the need for it overriding the need to know what the last corner of his mouth tasted like, you broke the kiss only to have his mouth chase yours.

Diving back in, you whimpered when his hips rocked up, press into yours. You wrapped your legs at his waist, having no qualms about grinding down on the swiftly growing bulge in his pants. “Steve,” sighed from your lips.

The hammering of his heart is like a sledgehammer against yours. “Baby,” he groaned, hands sliding down to your ass.

“About fucking time,” Bucky quipped.

“I know right?” Natasha snickered.

“Just, find a room for christ sake,” Tony sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Shit!” you squeaked, finding them all standing a landing above the one you were wrapped around Steve on.

“Finally, she will stop with the moping,” Wanda giggled.

“And he will stop with the dramatic sighs,” Thor laughed.

“Good thing, too. I was getting ready to lock them in a closet,” Sam snorted.

“I hate you all,” you sneered. “Go the fuck away!”

“Language!” came from the entire group, causing Steve to drop his head to your shoulder.

“Let’s get out of here.” He swung you from the wall, took you in his arms, and headed for the closest door.

“We’re you going, punk?” Bucky called gleefully.

“My best girl and I are going to go find a room. So fuck off, jerk!” Steve smirked, slamming through the door.

“Language!” they all shouted again.

Bursting out laughing, you clung to Steve whose heart still pounded in time with yours.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smut, NSFW, fluff, swearing. 
> 
> Song: She’s So High by Tal Bachman

## Chapter Two

* * *

“Cause he’s so _higgggghh,_ high above me, he so lovely,” you belted out, singing for all you were worth standing beneath the shower’s spray. “ He’s so _higgggggh,_ like Cleopatra, Joan of Arc, or Aphrodite. He’s so _higggghhhh,_ high above me.” You weren’t quite sure how Steve had gotten ahold of your playlist, having them downloaded on the system which played over the speakers in his bathroom, but you were perfectly alright with playing it at a level which had the bass thumping while you worked shampoo through your hair.

Wiggling as you ducked your head beneath the spray, you twisted, swayed and danced. “First class, fancy-free, he’s high society, he’s got the best of _everrryyyy_ thing. What could a girl like me ever really offer? He’s perfect as he can be, why should I even bother- _ahh_!” A particularly wild swing of hips had you squeaking as you slipped in the shower, falling backward, smacking into a big, wide chest.

“Careful, doll face. You’re gonna land on your head,” Steve scolded, pressing into your back.

Turning, you grin up at him. “Well, if you didn’t have my favourites loaded in your shower, I wouldn’t feel the need to dance.”

“Not sure how this can be your favourite when you keep getting the words wrong,” he teased, hands sliding over your slick skin.

“This was your song for a long time, Steve,” you confessed, hands gliding up his chest, loving the way his muscles flexed and quivered as you touched him, to link at the back of his neck. “At least the first part.” A week ago at Tony’s party, everything had changed for the better. Now, at the compound upstate, you and Steve were blissfully happy, still in the early stages, but settling in and learning each other’s routines. You still had two rooms, but you spent most nights in his. The bed was bigger.

His hand closed on your thighs, lifted you up so you could wrap them around his torso as he pressed you into the wall. Lips skimmed your jaw, worked down your throat when you tipped your head back on a content sigh right before the music quieted slightly, and you heard, “She comes to speak to me. I freeze immediately, cause what she says sounds so unreal…. Cause somehow I can’t believe that anything should happen…”

“No,” you groaned, “that’s so not _fair_! You can’t be good at _everything_!”

Chuckling he warbled badly, “Cause she’s so _higggghhhh,_ high above me!”

“Oh god! That’s worse cause I know you’re faking!” you laughed. Clearly, he knew this song as well.

“FRIDAY, turn it down, please.” The music immediately dropped to a barely-there background sound. “You’re up early this morning,” Steve murmured, going back to kissing your neck.

“Clint’s coming in. We’re doing the mock extraction in the woods with the newbies. He gets to try and shoot me,” you giggled when his morning scruff tickled your skin.

“Just as long as he doesn’t _actually_ shoot you. He’s using those soft arrows, right?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, stroking your hands over his broad shoulders and up the back of his neck. “You know he loves me.”

“He calls you brat,” Steve chuckled.

“Cause he loves me,” you quipped.

“I love you,” he said, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Do you now?” you teased, smiling at the softness of his features, the brightness of his eyes. “I never would have guessed.”

“Cheeky dame.” He smacked you gently on the bottom in retaliation.

“Captain!” you gasped in mock insult. “How rude!”

“Rude is not saying it back, baby doll.” He dropped you down the wall, so your rapidly dampening core slid over his erection.

“Steve!” you groaned, tightening your legs.

“What’s the word, doll face?” he whispered against your ear, thrusting gently, teasing over your clit with barely-there pressure.

“Love you, too,” you moaned as he slid home, taking you gently against the wall, the water pouring down behind him.

The first time you’d been together, it had been a nearly frantic dance of tongues and teeth, shredded clothing and grasping hands, leaving you both a sweaty, exhausted mess in the middle of Steve’s bed. It had been mind-numbing, your body a limp blob of fantastically satisfied flesh. Then, he’d rolled over, and you’d learned the level of patience Steve showed in a training situation could be applied to the bedroom as well. The man was insatiable and as immovable as a rock when he set his mind to something.

You’d never had a lover like him. He took his time, touched everything, savoured every stroke. The man made it his mission to leave your legs shaking, body drowning in sensation every time he made love to you. It was never _sex_ with Steve. It was love, sometimes frantic, sometimes slow, sometimes so teasingly you were ready to scream by the time he was finished _playing_ , but it was always love.

Pressed against the wall, you whimpered at the way your nipples tightened and dragged over his slick skin. His hands squeezed in time with his thrust, his lips sucked and pulled at the skin beneath your ear, drifted down, brushed over your shoulder. Teeth closed gently on your muscle.

Sighing, you closed your arms around him, holding on, nails skating his scalp as you gripped a handful of hair. “Steve,” you sighed, loving the way he knew you already.

He knew when you made that sound to tilt your hips just a bit more, thrust a little harder, add a twist which had his ridge dragging over your sweet spot. A sexy growl rumbling in his chest sent a rush of heat to your core.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, face tucked into your shoulder.

Head thrown back, mouth open, you could only sigh and whimper, biting your lip to keep from babbling incoherently. You’d done that once, babbled. Said highly embarrassing things in your delirious state.

Shifting his grip to one arm, a hand came up to thread through your hair, hold your head as his lips sought yours, chased and nipped, kissed and sucked until you were lost in a sensual haze you have no hope of getting out of until he let you.

Keening softly, you worked your hips down, adding a twist, making him growl again. “I love that sound,” you managed to gasp between kisses.

He made it again, louder, nearly a snarl you didn’t think a human voice could actually produce.

“Oh god, Steve.”

He chuckled, a dark sound full of heat. “You like a little feral in your loving, baby?” His hips jerked up, and you moaned.

“Please…” you sighed, tightening your thighs more, holding him closer.

His lips continued to play and tug, but you could no longer focus enough to participate, only holding on as the burning, tightening, swelling heat in your belly grew steadily stronger with each, now vigorous, thrust of his hips.

Another keening wail slid from your throat.

Steve’s forehead pressed to yours. “Let go, sweetheart.” He placed a kiss to the corner of your lips.

You tumbled headlong into ecstasy, crying out, clinging to the man you’d never thought could be yours. “Steve,” you moaned, coming undone.

“Baby,” he groaned, hips losing their rhythm, head dropping, face pressing to your throat. “Love you.” A few hard thrusts more, and he was calling your name as he emptied himself. He kissed your throat, little pecs all up your neck, back to your ear where he tugged on your earlobe. “The best way to start the day,” he sighed happily.

Letting your arms drape over his shoulders, you smiled. “I thought that was coffee?”

He chuckled, drawing you from the wall without letting you down, so the water fell over you both. “If you’d rather I just go get you coffee, that could be arranged,” he teased.

Kissing him hard on the mouth, you snickered. “How ‘bout both?”

“Both is good,” he said, kissing you back.

***

Bucky’s metal fist slammed into the quinjet to the side of Garry’s head, causing the man to jump. “Hey, _pal_ ,” he chuckled, getting a good look at Garry’s face. It was a mess of bruises still, some black, some the sickly yellow of healing skin, but all impressive even a week later.

(Y/N) had really worked him over.

“Sergeant Barnes,” he muttered, eyes full of petulance.

“You get those engines cleaned out yet?” Bucky had found the absolute worst job possible in retaliation for the stunt he’d pulled, something dirty and disgusting.

“Working on it… sir,” he grunted, swiping an arm over his brow and smearing grease across his face.

“Good. When you’re done with this morning’s training, you can wash out the hanger.”

“What?! But it’s huge!”

Arching a brow, Bucky growled, “I was going to let you use a hose. Would you rather wash it down by hand?”

“This is bullshit,” he grumbled, scowl growing. “It was just a stupid joke!”

“It was a nasty joke, one in which you impersonated a superior!” Though his prank had, in the end, allowed for (Y/N) and Steve to finally get their shit together, no one was going to overlook the fact Garry had pretended to be Steve. _Twice_. That crap just wasn’t right. “You keep your own damn face on unless you’re on a mission,” Bucky snapped, striding away.

“Still bullshit,” Garry muttered, going back to his cleaning with an angry swipe.

Rolling his eyes, Bucky made his way inside the upstate compound. The party the week previous had been to celebrate the handful of new recruits finishing basic training, now ready to join the team when needed. That didn’t mean there weren’t still training exercises to be run. They were still newbies.

Team Avenger kept expanding as the world needed them, though the original group remained the same. The newbies assisted once in a while, but otherwise, they were forming their own teams, figuring out who worked best with whom.

Garry didn't fit well anywhere.

At this point, Bucky wasn’t sure how he’d made it through basic. Not with that attitude. But the kid had a unique skill set. One, which, when harnessed correctly, could be an extreme asset. So far, he was still a stupid shit who Bucky would really like to punch. Hard. With the left hand.

Garry was an asshole and just young enough to be stupid and cocky enough to think he could get away with it.

Pushing through a last set of doors into the team’s common room, he paused to lean against the wall and watch as Steve stroked (Y/N)’s hair back. The big blond doofus had been pining after her for months; she’d been pining after him nearly as long. If something hadn’t happened between them soon, Bucky had been about ready to help Sam in his plan to lock them in a closet together. But seeing them like this, happy, stupidly so, he couldn’t help but smile. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to tease them something fierce. “Get a room.”

“Shut up, jerk,” Steve chuckled.

“Make me, punk.”

“I’ll make you if you don’t,” (Y/N) muttered.

“You think I’ll go down as easy as Garry?” Bucky asked, a wide smirk on his lips as he sauntered across the room.

“If I kick you really hard in the nuts you will,” she quipped, grin wicked.

Both he and Steve had the same reaction. A hard wince and twisted grimace.

“Damn, doll. That’s just cruel,” Bucky turned his pelvis away.

She snorted, eyes twinkling with amusement. “If there’s one thing I know about men who are bigger, and a hell of a lot stronger than me it’s you all still cry like little girls when you’re kneed in the boys.” Pressing up on her toes, she kissed the wincing Steve on the cheek before sauntering away. “Don’t worry, fellas. Your bits are safe,” she called over her shoulder.

“Where you going, doll face?” Bucky asked.

“She’s got training to do with the newbies,” Steve answered for her, smile dopey as he watched (Y/N)’s ass sway until she disappeared through the exterior doors.

“You’ve got it bad, pal,” Bucky snickered, avoiding the half-hearted punch Steve threw at his shoulder.

“Yeah, well…” blushing, he rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s just so… _great_ ,” he sighed.

“Shit that was sappy,” Bucky teased.

“You’re an asshole,” he quipped, unable to put any heat behind the words, not with the smile which graced his lips.

“Captain! Such _language_!” Tony gasped, wandering in the door with Sam.

“And all these young ears running around,” Sam scolded, nudging Steve with his elbow when he arrived at his other side. “What would the newbies think of _the_ Captain America having a potty mouth?”

“You’re all a pain in my ass,” Steve muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Least you know none of us will ever kick you in the family jewels!” Bucky laughed, slapping him on the back.

“Oh, shit! Did you piss (Y/N) off already? What did you do? How bad is it? Do we need to warn Barton? She’s with him today.” Sam was already digging for his phone.

“Nah, she was just kidding… I think,” Steve muttered.

“Only one she’s liable to knee in the nuts is Garry. How the fuck he make it through basic?” Bucky asked Tony.

Tony shrugged. “You’d have to ask Hill. She’s who recruited him.”

“You don’t think he’s going to be stupid, do you?” Sam groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I always end up with the ones who do stupid things.”

Clenching his metal hand into a fist, Bucky shook it gently. “If he does… I get to use this.”

“Buck,” Steve sighed, rolling his eyes.

“What? You threatened to hit him with your shield; it’s only fair,” he huffed. “I don’t think he’d be stupid enough to play Steve again. Not with (Y/N). How’d she do it? How’d she know it wasn’t you?” Bucky had never gotten around to finding out.

Steve blushed, scrubbing at the back of his neck again. “She, uh, said he… smelled wrong,” he said in a rush.

The rest of them burst out laughing.

“Of course she did!” Sam chortled. “With all the times you’ve dragged her outta this scrap or that scrap over your shoulder, of _course_ , she’d know _exactly_ what you smell like!”

Bucky couldn’t fault that logic. (Y/N) was a scrapper, always quick to throw a punch, more than once picking a fight with someone far bigger than she was. They’d all seen Steve drag her bodily away before, usually with her screaming insults at whoever was on the receiving end of her ire. “She’s like a Chihuahua after a wolf half the time.”

“Napoleon syndrome,” Tony snickered.

“She’s not _Napoleon_!” Steve barked defensively, causing them to all laugh harder. A wicked smirk suddenly appeared on his face. “You know, I could just have FRIDAY repeat this conversation in its entirety for her.”

“I’m out!” Sam said, raising his hands and backing away.

“Don’t be hasty there, Cap,” Tony, now a rather pale shade also back peddled quickly.

Bucky only smirked. “She already threatened my balls once today. I’ve got nothing to lose.” Shrugging a shoulder, he tucked his hands in pockets and walked away whistling.

***

Five steps from Clint, you broke into a quick jog and leapt to his back, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. “Feathers!” you squealed happily, his hands coming up to grip your thighs.

“For Christ sake, woman!” he yelled stumbling forwards. “I’m not your damn super soldier boy toy. Let a guy get braced, so he doesn’t fall on his face, and don’t call me _feathers_!”

“Oh, shut it,” you snickered, clinging like a monkey. “You’re not _that_ old and feeble.”

“I feel old and feeble when flying females fling themselves on my back!” he griped.

You only giggled harder. Clint may bitch, but this little ritual wasn’t about to be missed by either of you. Though you could have done without the quiver of arrows in the chest. Dropping to the ground, you ducked under his raised arm and hugged him around the middle. “How’s Laura and the kids?”

“Good, good. Everyone’s good.” He sighed, looking a touch wistful before his sharp eyes dropped to yours. “So, dumbass going to be part of this today?”

“Yeah,” you grumbled. “He’d best keep his own face on, or I’m going to borrow Cap’s shield and hit him with it!” Clint hadn’t been at the party, but Tony had taken the footage of Garry getting his ass kicked and set it to music. Everyone had gotten a copy of it, including Garry.

“Have you always been this violent?” he chuckled, ruffling your hair.

“You should know. You trained me.”

“That I did, kid. You ready for this?”

“You going to _actually_ tag me with one of those today?” you asked, grin sly as you nicked an arrow from his quiver.

“I’ll try to avoid hitting anything Steve may want to grab latter,” he quipped, stealing the arrow back.

Gaping at him, you flushed a brilliant red. “Shut up, feathers!”

“Not gonna happen, brat!”

“One would think she’d be done flirting now she’d reeled in the big fish,” Garry snickered quietly to the six other agents who were walking with him.

Snatching the arrow back from Clint, you turned and threw it like a javelin, hitting Garry directly in the chest. It exploded on impact, coating him in bright orange paint. “Ooh! That’s new,” you snickered, looking to Clint.

“Got into paintballing with Laura. She wanted to do something fun where she could shoot back,” he explained, pulling another arrow from his quiver. “Just so you all know… these ones?” he held up the arrow with a wicked grin, “Hurt more than the nerf tipped ones.”s

“Dial back the glee, Robin Hood.” You rolled your eyes. “The goal here is to make it through the woods, _unpainted_ , secure your hostage and get back out without either of you getting tagged. As there’s seven of you, I’m going to be playing hostage for one _lucky_ probie.” From the ground, you picked up the sack dropped in your leap at Clint. “Maggie, Faye, Garry and Marcus, pick a name. Then, decide who plays damsel. You’ll all get to run this twice except for my partner whom I’ll play damsel for. Let’s get it done.”

“You don’t need the rescue practice, brat?” Clint teased.

“Considering I pulled your ass out of the fryer out last mission, think I’m good, feathers.” Holding out the bag, you gave it a shake.

The four you’d singled out came forward. Garry, eyeing you with anger, shoved his hand in the bag, pulled it out, and grinned victoriously. “Looks like you’re _my_ damsel, (Y/N).”

You heard Clint hiss a startled _fuck_ , and wholeheartedly agreed with him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language
> 
> Song: The Snake by Al Wilson

## Chapter Three

* * *

“Nope, not happening!” Clint barked. “We’re swapping teams.”

Gritting your teeth together, hating yourself for what you were about to do, you sucked it up and did what Steve would. “No. We’re leaving them as they are.”

“Brat!” Clint hissed.

Glaring at Garry, his too smug face _begging_ for a fist, you shook your head. “Gotta happen sooner or later. Let’s just get on with it.”

Low key murmurs were coming from the rest of the newbies, and, while you didn’t have Cap or Bucky’s hearing, you weren’t stupid.

Everyone here was a _team_. If you couldn’t play nice with the agent you most wanted to beat the living shit out of, how were you to expect them to get along with each other? You were a big girl. You could handle _Garry_.

Turning back to the group, you called out, “Everyone ready?” An affirmative sound ran through them. “Alrighty then. Designated rescuers, you’ll get your Intel from Clint, everyone else… brace yourselves.” With a cheeky grin, you held up your hand.

“Brace? For what?” asked Susan, paired with Maggie.

“Not what, who.” Chuckling, you pointed toward the compound.

Iron Man, War Machine, and Falcon all leapt from the roof at the same time.

“Hang on, ladies,” Tony chuckled, grabbing Susan and Faye around the waist, leaving Maggie and Grant, Faye’s partner, gaping after them.

Rhodey chuckled as he snatched Smitty up by the back of his protective vest, causing the man to squeak out in fear before he was dragged into the air, Marcus looking on in shock.

“Give me a boost, old man!” You laughed, running for Clint.

Linking his fingers together, Clint snapped, “I’m not old, just gently used!” as he tossed you up toward Sam.

“Got you, (Y/N)!”

Laughing, you wrapped an arm around his neck. “Never had a doubt, Sam!”

Glancing toward the ground, he frowned. “Do _not_ tell me you’re paired up with _Garry_! Cap’s going to flip.”

“I can handle Garry.” You dismissed his concern. “What’s he going to do? Play Steve again? Not if he wants to pass this exercise.” Not if he wanted to keep his balls.

“Still, I don’t like it. He’s a shit.” Dropping to the ground, he set you down before the bunker you were being stashed at. “You want me to hang out? This place gives me the creeps.”

“Nah, I’m good.” You shook your head, heading inside. The old storage facility had been retrofitted but not upgraded. It had the latest technology and would simulate a real combat scenario, in which Garry had to get in, get you out, and not get tagged. Once you were out, then it would be up to Clint, situated on the roof of the compound, to take the two of you down before you could reach the designated extraction zone. “I brought my phone for company.”

Garry only had thirty minutes to get to you before your captors _killed_ you, so you didn’t figure you’d have to wait too terribly long.

“Okay, but if you need anything…” Sam trailed off.

“I’m good, flyboy, thanks.” Smiling, you waved him off and wandered over to settle in the chair in the middle of the room. Once you sat down, all systems would be go, and Garry was on his own.

****

Clint went through everyone else’s Intel, sent them on their way, and turned to Garry where he dragged the little shit closer by the vest. “You mess with her again, I got a special arrow with your name on it.”

“Chill out, man,” he held up his hands defensively. “I’ve learned my lesson. No one plays with the big guy’s woman.”

Clint swatted him upside the head. “Dumbass. The big guy is Bruce, but no one fucks with this team, _period_! You’d be getting the same lectures, the same shit chores, and the same hassle if you’d pulled this stunt with Nat or Wanda or Scott. It was cruel, and it was stupid! You’re supposed to be becoming an Avenger. Right now, all I see is a punk. Pull your head out of your ass and grow up!” Shoving him back, Clint handed out the last package of Intel. “She’s in the bunker. Get in, get out. Don’t get caught.”

“Yes, sir!” Garry gave a mocking salute and jogged towards the woods.

Fingers twitching on his bow, Clint muttered, “An accident. I could stage an accident. No one would ever have to know. Just picked the wrong arrowhead. Oops.” Turning towards the compound where he would make his way to the roof, he was plucked from the ground by Sam. “Shit! Warn a guy!”

Dropping Clint on the roof, Sam landed beside him. “Figured you wouldn’t mind the lift,” he chuckled.

“Give me a heart attack, and I might mind,” Clint grumbled.

Sam stood beside Clint, laughing, arms crossed as he stared out at the woods. “You can really see all them? I can pick ‘em up, but only thanks to these.” He tapped his goggles.

“Yeah. But I’m keeping tabs on that one.” Clint pointed in the direction of Garry.

“Can’t believe you let her partner with him. Cap’s going to freak. Him and Bucky.” Shaking his head, Sam sighed. “You tellin’ him, or am I?”

“She said she could handle it. He’s supposed to be part of the team. Let her handle it.” Clint shrugged. “But if you want to hang out in case she loses her shit and kicks his ass again; I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Honestly? I kinda hope she does!” Sam snickered. “It’s a pleasure to watch her work.”

***

The wait was boring as hell, but the simulated agents ignored you, allowing you to wait quietly, playing Candy Crush when the text from Laura showed up.

_Clint said you’re running an extraction exercise today. FYI? He’s increased his range by about 60 feet._

_“_ What!?” You squeak loudly, sending back a furiously typed text. _How!? That’s not possible!_

A sheepish looking emoji appeared. _I don’t know. He muttered something about paintballs and trajectories, wind somethings and resistance. Um… my bad?_

You could almost see her laughing. _Thanks for the heads up. I’ll be ready._

Pouting a little, reworking your plan for getting past Clint and his bow, you glanced at the clock. Twenty-two minutes in.

Garry should be coming through the door at any time.

The pairings, other than this one, had worked out quite well.

Susan was a teleporter. She could jump in and out of places as long as she had pictures and was within a hundred feet. But she wasn’t able to bring people with her, only objects.

Already the team was looking at her for missions regarding gathering Intel. It would be cake for her to plant listening devices, or if the need was great, a bomb.

Her partner, Maggie, used a combination of sound and brainwaves. With a thought, she could take out agents, but with a whistle, she could blow electronics, or level a building.

The two of them worked well together as Susan could get in and out undetected, while Maggie played distraction. You liked them as a team.

Faye was different, small and delicate. Her power lay in the swiftness of her brain. It worked so quickly she was nearly clairvoyant, always multiple steps ahead of her opponent. She could put together an op and run the scenarios in her head to such pinpoint accuracy; there was a ridiculously small margin of error.

Hill and Fury had been looking at her for just that purpose. Using her to run numbers, or plan insurgencies because she often made a note of probabilities not even the computers noticed.

Grant in comparison was of average intelligence, but the man was a brutal fighter. Very little stopped him once he got throwing fists. Nat had hit him with her widow’s bite once. He’d barely even flinched.

Going a few rounds with Steve and Bucky had rung his bell, finally dropping him to his knees, but it had both super soldiers sweating by the time they finished.

Grant and Faye had partnered together before, and Faye’s cool, calculating brain kept him contained. She was very good at channelling his effort where it would do the most damage, and for his part, Grant was more than willing to put his nearly invincible self in harm’s way for her.

You figured he was a little smitten, but they weren’t letting it interfere in their training. Just because they’d made it this far didn’t necessarily mean they would become Avengers.

Then there was Smitty and Marcus who were elementals as well as brothers.

The darker of the two, Smitty - born Saturino but nickname Smitty by Tony when the Iron Man was being, well, Tony - was always laughing and joking, often in his native Portuguese so only Marcus understood him. The brothers, originally from Brazil, had grabbed the Avengers attention when working together, they had diverted a mudslide from taking out an entire village.

Smitty could channel water like it was an extension of his body, while Marcus moved air with the simplicity of breathing. The two synced perfectly, and when Marcus had pulled his brother’s name from the bag, it hadn’t surprised you at all.

The only one that perplexed you was Garry. Garry with two Rs. _Who the hell spells Garry with two Rs_? A self-entitled little prick, that’s who. One day soon you were going to corner Maria and ask what the hell she thought she was doing.

But even here you could see why they were so interested in him. Garry’s power was unique. The man could glamour himself, taking the face and form of anyone he wished. As long as he’d seen a picture of their face, heard their voice, and had a rough estimation of height and weight, he could wave his fingers and become them. When he had the chance to really study his target, he could mimic them with an incredible degree of accuracy.

The man was good, you’d give him that, but he was an asshat. Had been since the moment you’d met. He was sarcastic and rude, petulant and confrontational. What his problem with you was, you had no clue, but he’d been a total dick from day one.

Maybe it was because out of the entire team, you were _normal_. No special powers, no tragic backstory, no crazy weaponry. You were just a girl who had managed to impress the right people at the right time, ending up placed with the team when they’d needed an extra member.

Barton had been your mentor, and you thanked your lucky stars every day for it. Clint, while you wouldn’t classify him as _completely_ normal, anyone who had that kind of aim and precision was, in your book, damn special, he wasn’t what the others were. He was an agent who’d done his own impressing at the right time and place to get where he was today.

If you’d been paired with anyone else, you might have been too intimidated to really let loose, but Clint… he was just Clint. He kicked your ass, gave you pep talks, and sat at your bedside the first time you’d taken a bullet. He was your mentor, your rock, and your friend. Eventually, he’d become family.

He was the older brother you’d never known was missing. When he’d found out about you and Steve, he’d handed the phone to Laura, who proceeded to rat him out as he’d happy danced his way around their living room.

The door handle turning knocked you from your musings, but you didn’t give up your would be rescuer’s location by looking, just casually tucked your phone away.

When the door opened further, and an agent you’d seen wandering through the halls walked in, you arched a brow. Would the simulated agents know he was faking? Apparently not, for, when Garry stopped, pulled his silenced weapon and fired, he took down the three agents milling around without any alarms going off.

“That was _almost_ impressive,” you quipped, getting to your feet.

“Then I will _almost_ thank you,” he said, motioning toward the door. “Buildings clear. Let’s get the damsel home to her big, strong superhero.”

Rolling your eyes, you ignored him.

“What? No thank you for the rescue?”

“You’re not done yet,” you reminded him.

He snorted, following in your wake. “Barton can’t be that good. He’s got _hundreds_ of acres to search through and eight of us to find.”

Side-eyeing him, you shrugged. “Suit yourself, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Oh, come on! You’ve got to be joking.”

“Ten bucks says he tags everyone from the other teams.”

“Twenty says he tags half of us at best.”

“Fifty, he tags everyone _except_ me.”

“You’re on!” Garry challenged, holding out his hand.

“Put your own damn face on first. It’s weird knowing you’re not you.”

The image around him shimmered, returning him to dark hair and calculating grey eyes. “Better?”

“Much,” you grumbled heading for the exterior doors.

“What? Not going to shake on it?”

“Do I need to?”

“It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.” He almost sounded like he was pouting.

Glancing back, you smirked at him. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m not a gentleman.” You could practically hear his teeth grind together. Pausing before the outer door, you wiped the smirk off your face before turning to face him.

“Ladies first.” He motioned toward the door.

“Nope. That’s not how this works. I’m not an agent in this scenario. I’m a hostage. You lead.”

“So you’re saying _I’m_ in charge?” A wicked grin spread over his face.

“As long as you don’t fuck up.” You shrugged.

He growled at you, a full-on angry snarl, causing you to burst out laughing.

“What are you? An angry puppy?” you snickered, unable to help yourself.

“Fuck you.” Grabbing the handle, he wrenched open the door.

“Awe. Did I strike a nerve?” You pout, batting your lashes.

“Why don’t you shut your mouth until you can wrap those lips back around Cap’s cock like the good whore you are,” he sneered stalking away.

You flinch as if you’d been slapped before all you could see was red. “Alright, that hangs it! What the hell is your problem with me? You’ve been nothing but a stuck-up _snot_ since day one!”

He turned on you sending you swiftly into a defensive stance. “And at what point did you ever give me a chance? Huh? You and your _attitude_ have been leading the charge since the minute we arrived!”

Taken aback, you stared, horrified. “No, I haven’t!”

“Please!” he snorted, striding into the forest.

“Wait, wait, wait! Explain yourself!”

He only scoffed, continuing to walk away.

Darting forward, you grabbed him by the arm. “C’mon! I mean it, Garry! If I did something to offend you, I certainly didn’t mean to. Let me apologize.”

He peered down at you, eyes assessing before he sighed. “The minute you walked in the room it was like you picked out every flaw each of us had. This was wrong, that needed improvement. We were never going to be good enough, but you weren’t special. You’re _normal_! Not enhanced. Not a mutant. No special skills like Clint or Sam. Just some girl who got lucky and wound up part of the team. You didn’t even give us a chance. And when I tried to call you on it, you turned into a raging bitch.”

Gasping, you stepped back. “No… I… that’s not it at all! I called you out on your flaws because some of you seemed unaware of them. In a combat scenario, they could get you killed. Clint did the same for me. And the only reason I got up in your face that day was that I thought you could do so much better. I was trying to motivate you, not picking on you.”

“I’m not a soldier, (Y/N)! Those tactics may work on Steve and Bucky, but they didn’t with me. I resented it, and you, this whole time!” He threw up his hands in disgust.

Your hands fell to your sides as you sadly shook your head. “Garry… I… I’m sorry. I wish you would have said something sooner.”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, thrusting a hand through his hair. “Maybe before I played that prank and you tried to kick me through reinforced glass.”

Chuckling a little, you shrugged. “You did deserve that.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too, about what I did.” He looked away, a hint of red rising beneath the bruises.

“Had a slightly more pleasing outcome on my end.” You grinned smugly. “Look, I’ll get the guys to lay off. Tell them you apologized and meant it. We all need to work as a team. We’re on the same side after all.”

“Really? Bucky was going to make me wash out the hanger after this.” His eyes filled with hope.

“Sure,” you laughed. “Come on. We’ve got a ways to go before we are in range of Clint’s arrows. You can tell me your plan for getting my butt out of here unscathed.”

“That would be great!” he smiled, a genuine one that softened his features as he waved you forward.

Heading into the trees, you didn’t see the smile turn cold, nor the hardness come to his grey eyes as he watched you walk away.

***

Opening the door to the roof, Steve and Bucky walked out into the sun, heading for Clint and Sam, standing at the edge.

“So this is where everyone’s hiding out,” Steve chuckled, taking up position beside Sam and cross his arms. “How’s everyone doing?”

“Down to two,” Clint grumbled.

“Who’s left?” Bucky asked.

“Brat and the bastard,” he quipped, notching another arrow.

Steve instantly stiffened. “I beg your pardon? (Y/N)’s out with _Garry_?”

Clint gritted his teeth together and let fly, swearing viciously as he did. “Fuck! Yes, damn it! Shut up and let me work!”

Another arrow was between his fingers and flying through the air before either newcomer could comment.

“What the hell?” Bucky grumbled, peering at Clint.

“Our girl’s doing a hell of a job evading Barton’s arrows,” Sam muttered.

“Yeah?” Steve smirked proudly.

“Yeah. But she’s working _with_ Garry. I don’t know what happened out there, but she said they needed to work as a team and damn if she hadn’t taught Garry a few things.”

Landing with a solid clank, Tony made his way toward the group. “Your elf eyes failing you, Legolas?”

“Fuck you, Stark.”

“Ooh. Someone’s pissy,” Tony chuckled.

“What can you see, Tony?” Steve asked.

Opening his hand, Tony played the images back from the cameras placed throughout the woods. “She’s giving Katniss there a run for his money.”

Gathered around the running images, listening as Barton cursed with each miss, the other four watched as (Y/N) and Garry, danced, dashed, and darted their way through the trees.

“Shit. Will you look at her go,” Sam chuckled.

“There’s no rhythm to their actions, no way to guess where they’ll go next.” Bucky nodded, impressed.

“She’s got you pegged, Barton,” Tony fairly cackled.

“Not yet. They’re not to the extraction point yet.”

They all watched as Clint lined up the shot, waiting, waiting, waiting before releasing the arrow with a quiet twang from the bowstring. He lowered his bow, smirk on his face, and nodded.

Watching the cameras again, the four men took a collective inhalation. The arrow zipped past camera after camera, flying toward the two running through the wood.

Steve gasped when (Y/N) bent nearly double, laying over backwards to avoid the projectile. Garry, running a few feet behind her, was not so lucky.

The explosion of vibrant yellow paint along with the force of the arrow hitting at speed, threw him backward through the air and hard onto his back where he lay, gasping and panting, trying to recover the wind Clint had knocked out of him.

“That’s it, brat,” Clint said into his com. “Rescuer is dead; hostage retaken. Mission failed.”

Everyone could hear her shouted _fuck_ snarl through the air.

“You did good, kid. Got farther than anyone else,” he complimented.

Steve frowned as he watched (Y/N) run back to check on Garry, help him to his feet, and make sure he was steady before heading back. “Alright, is it just me, or is that weird?”

“Weird.” Bucky and Sam said together, eyeing each other.

“Let’s go see what’s up with little miss feisty,” Tony quipped, diving off the roof, Sam hot on his heels.

“I swear at times they forget we don’t fly,” Bucky groused, jogging toward the door with Clint and Steve.

By the time the three of them made it to the ground, the newbies were making their way out of the woods.

Striding quickly forward, Steve frowned when he heard his girl laugh.

“So close! Ugh! I told you, you’d picked up a rhythm!” she smirked at Garry.

“I don’t even know how!” he whined throwing up his arms.

“You stopped thinking. The body naturally wants to be in rhythm. You have to force it not to. We’ll work on it.”

“(Y/N)?” Steve muttered.

***

Looking toward the call of your name, you lit up. “Steve!” You danced forward and jumped knowing he’d catch you, and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Did you see? Man! We were so close!” Glancing around at the paint splattered others, you laughed. “And Garry now owes me fifty bucks!”

“He does, does he?” Steve’s smile slowly appeared on his face.

“Yup!” you said popping the ‘P.’ “I’m the only one not covered in paint!”

“Not for lack of trying,” Clint muttered. “Damn it, woman! Did Laura warn you?”

“Maybe!” you giggled.

“Garry. Get cleaned up. You’ve got a hanger to scrub.” Bucky thrust a thumb at the compound.

“Wait, Bucky.” Looking to Steve, you motioned with your head toward the ground. “Garry and I talked. He apologized, for real. I… we,” sighing you huffed, “We’ve both made some mistakes, but we cleared up the misunderstandings. It’s fixed, guys, so lay off. Okay?”

They all gaped at you before each one glared at Garry.

You slammed your hands to your hips and stepped between them and Garry. “Enough! We’re supposed to be a team. Let’s act like one. From now on, I’ll be Garry’s mentor.”

A chorus of disbelieving voices ran through the men.

“It’s decided!” you snapped, glaring at them. “Now, I’m for the shower. Garry, I’ll see you on the gun range in an hour. Everyone else, get ready to rerun this exercise, switch partners, new locations.” You marched away, Steve hot on your heels.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smut, swearing, devious Garry. NSFW 18+
> 
> Song: All to Myself by Marianas Trench

## Chapter Four

* * *

Your secondary shadow paced you through the halls, his face frozen in a mask of displeasure those who passed him couldn’t help but flinch upon seeing.

Steve was unhappy, clearly, but there was nothing he could say that would change your mind. The decision was made, and it was for the betterment of the team.

Striding through your bedroom door, you waited for the slam but were destined to be disappointed when it shut behind him with deceptive gentleness.

“(Y/N)… are you _sure_ about this?”

Turning to face him, you blinked in surprise for instead of the frosty anger you’d been expecting; you found worry and concern had coated his face. “Steve…”

With a sigh, he sat heavily down on the edge of your bed. Shoulders slumped and head hanging, he rubbed his palms down his thighs. “I don’t like it,” he muttered, shaking his head. “And I hate that I don’t like it cause I know what you’re doing.”

Stepping between his spread knees, you cupped his face, tilting up his chin, so his baby blues were easily seen. “Oh, Steve,” you sighed.

His arms wrapped around your thighs, drawing you closer. “He’s deceitful, baby. I don’t like how he hurt you. I don’t like how he treated you.”

Sighing softly, you ran your hands through his hair. “I’m not without blame in this. Garry… he was nice today, and I think… I think he could fit in here if we gave him a chance. I sometimes forget that they’re not soldiers. Barking orders and criticizing their flaws… it doesn’t work for everyone.”

“No, I get that, but they can’t be babied either, doll. They may not have _been_ soldiers, but they’re gonna have to take orders, and those orders come from us. If they can’t handle it now, how will they take it in the field?”

“Well, then I guess we’d best help them adjust instead of making them feel like failures.” You smiled gently, offsetting the harshness of your words.

“Still don’t like it, especially you being Garry’s mentor,” he grumbled.

Chuckling softly, you shifted against the tight hold of his arms, moving to straddle his thighs, sitting in Steve’s lap where you linked your arms behind his neck. “You don’t 'wike' it?”

“Stop,” he pouted.

“But _I_ wike it,” you teased. It wasn’t often that little lisp came out in his speech. You’d only ever heard it in private, and only ever on the word _like_ but it was absolutely adorable. You pushed him to his back, an action made more difficult by the arms which dragged you down with him and shimmied higher in his lap. “You sound so sweet when you say _wike_. Do it again, Stevie, for me?”

He rolled his eyes, but his hands drifted up your back. “Why? Cause you _wike_ it so much?”

Giving a soft, happy squeal, you nodded and bit at your lip. “It’s kind of sexy, along with this bit of scruff you’ve got going on here.” You tugged at the whiskers he’d yet to shave.

“Yeah?” A devilish light appeared in his eyes right before he flipped your position. “Ain’t nowhere near as sexy as this catsuit.” With a smirk, he gave the zipper a tug with his teeth, sending it sliding down to your navel.

“Why, Captain!” you gasped in false affront, “How devious of you, disheveling a co-worker in the middle of the day? That’s cause for court-martial, isn’t it?”

“Aren’t you the one who just said we’re not in the army anymore?”

“I don’t believe I said that at all,” you sighed when the tip of his nose brushed from the hollow of your throat, up your neck and along the length of your jaw.

“Fewer orders, more leniency. More asking, less barking. So I’ll ask you, (Y/N), do you want me to stop? To follow protocol, or should I strip you out of this suit and fuck you into the mattress?” His teeth closed over your pulse, a sharp nip which made you gasp.

“Two, definitely choice number two!”

The brush of his short whiskers down your tender skin made you moan, arch, whimper a quiet plea as he worked his way down your chest. Teasing kisses were pressed to your sternum, the edges of your suit still caught, covering your breast.

When you reached to pull the fabric away, create access for his plump lips to work their magic, your hands were captured and pinned down at your sides. “Steve,” you groaned, aching all over.

A wicked chuckle had you peering down at him, his teeth just closing over the tab of your zipper as he pulled it down further, ending just above your mound where heat and wetness were rapidly pooling. A kiss was pressed to the newly bared flesh, his tongue darting out, sweeping beneath the final bit of covering, nowhere near where you needed that miracle appendage. Another kiss fell, this time on your fabric covered core, his nose nudging your sensitive bud, causing you to whine a soft sound of agony.

“I guess it’s too bad I’m still a soldier and a Captain and obligated to follow the rules then, isn’t it, baby doll?” he murmured, sliding right off the bed, releasing your hands and getting to his feet where he crossed his arms over his chest, his grin smug.

You gaped at him in shocked dismay. “You’re not serious?” Considering the strain his pants were currently under, there was no way he could be serious about walking away from this.

“Them’s the breaks, doll face,” he shrugged, heading for the door. “Not all of us can play fast and loose with the rules.”

“That’s a total dick move, Rogers!” you barked. “What’s this? Some sort of _punishment_ because I’m going to be Garry’s mentor?” Sitting up, you pulled the tab back up on your suit, angry and hurt by his reaction. “I only did what I thought you would in the situation.”

Seconds later, you found yourself yanked from the bed and pressed to the wall beside the bathroom while a moody super soldier went after your mouth with a vengeance. By the time he was through ravaging you, you’d grown lightheaded from lack of oxygen and stars were dancing behind your eyelids. The insistent length repeatedly being rocked into your core had you moaning, whimpering, moments from coming apart, and you cried out loudly when he sucked an angry hickey into the skin above your heart. How or when he’d managed to slide your zipper down again, you were uncertain.

“I assure you, _darlin'_ if I were punishing you for something you wouldn’t need to ask.” The same devious light was back in his blue eyes, a wickedly delightful look, a sinful promise which coupled with a hard thrust of his hips and a sharp bite of your lip had you digging your nails into his shoulders as searing pleasure streaked through your body.

A high pitched keen fell from your lips as he ground down on you with an intensity you’d yet to experience. This was the _Captain_ , the alpha male, the dominant man unleashed.

You’d pushed the wrong - or perhaps a very right - button. “Yes, Captain,” you sighed, leaning your forehead against his.

His countenance softened as the grip on your thighs did. “I didn’t mean to imply I was mad at you. I’m not mad. A little concerned, yeah, but… I’m proud of you for trying to make it work. You’re right. It is what I would have done. I’m sorry if it came off another way.”

“But you’re not happy with me mentoring Garry?”

“I’m… concerned about you mentoring Garry. He’s…” Steve shook his head. “I don’t know what, yet. Just, promise me you’ll keep your guard up?”

“He’s not so bad. It was kind of fun, the exercise today. I think if you got to know him you might like him,” you tried to reassure the anxious man, only to have his hips rock into yours causing a gasp and moan to escape you. “Steve!”

“Promise me. Promise me, baby. Tell me you’ll keep your guard up. That you won’t let Garry get too close. That you’ll watch for his tricks. Promise me.” His nose was back to work, sliding over your jaw and down your throat. Teeth nipped and scrapped tenderly over your collarbone, and all the while those hips rocked, and hands squeezed until you were a writhing mess willing to promise him anything.

“Ye-yes!” you whined, arching up, loving the way his hands continued to knead your thighs in time with his thrusts. “Steve, please! I need you!”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Only I can give you this.”

Sinking your hands in his hair, you tugged, hard. “Stop teasing and fuck me!”

“Can’t. Want to. Can’t,” he groaned, jacking you higher up the wall. “Already late for my meeting.”

“Then be later!” you begged.

“Fuck!” he hissed, shifting you to one arm as he tore the base out of your suit. His big hand covered your mound, thick fingers sinking between sopping folds as he sought and found your bundle of nerves. A few short circles had you wrenching at his hair; a short scream followed when he thrust his fingers deep in rapid plunges, shocking your orgasm out of you in waves of intense release. A second much softer curse of, “Fuck,” whispered from his lips when the wetness coated his fingers and palm. “Tonight. I’ll make up for missing out tonight.”

“Mmm,” you hummed, tightening your arms and legs around him. “Or you could just join me in the shower and _forget_ you had a meeting.”

“Pretty sure Tony will come looking if I don’t leave right now.”

“He’s a cock block,” you pouted.

“I am not!” came Tony’s voice through the closed door. “If I were, I would have knocked five minutes ago.”

“Go away you perverted old man!” you hollered at him.

“I’m not the one getting lucky on company time with a guy old enough to be my grandfather,” he called jovially back. “But take your time. I’ll stand out here and pretend not to listen.”

“You’re so gross! I’m telling Pepper about your voyeuristic tendencies!”

“She already knows!” he laughed.

Dropping your head to Steve’s shoulder, you sighed. “Will you please punch him at some point today?”

The blond super soldier chuckled and kissed your cheek. “I will do my best.”

***

Forty five minutes later you walked into the gun range with a decidedly pleased swagger. You may not have been able to coax Steve into the shower with you, but you’d come out of the expected argument - one that hadn’t happened - ahead of the game in your mind. The sweet afterglow which lingered even post-shower, also helped, making you feel loose and relaxed. 

Not even Tony’s teasing, his completely lewd remarks and nowhere near subtle innuendos to Steve could reduce the buzz you’d been riding, though it had lightly reddened Steve’s face when he’d walked out the door.

Alone on the range, you set yourself up, loaded your weapons and unleashed a hailstorm of bullets at the target downrange, pleased with the nice neat center mass circle which appeared.

“That’s pretty impressive, doll,” Bucky quipped, causing you to jump.

“Jesus, Barnes! Give a girl some warning before you scare the pants off her!”

Chuckling, he sauntered forward, evidently pleased with himself and utterly unrepentant. “Why would I do that? Watching you jump is the highlight of my day.”

“Uh, because if I’d had one bullet left, I might have shot you with it,” you snorted, dropping your empty magazines out of your guns and loading new ones with a hard shove.

“You wouldn’t do that,” he scoffed, leaning against the divider.

“I might, given the right incentive.” Turning back to the newly loaded target, you created a happy face, eyes, nose and smile, all neatly laid out.

Bucky whistled softly. “You always surprise me with your precision, doll face. You’d give Barton a run for his money with how accurate you are.”

“Easy enough with a stationary target,” you mumbled, fighting down the pleased blush threatening to redden your face. Praise from the former winter soldier, when it came to guns and accuracy, was a rarity, especially as Bucky was probably the foremost sniper around, so when he said he was impressed, you could believe it.

“Nah, you’ve got skills, (Y/N).” Reaching out, Bucky tapped the end of your nose as he was want to do. “Though I’m gonna have to question your brains. What the fuck, little girl? Standing up for Garry? Taking him under your wing? You gone and lost your mind or what?”

“Bucky, I just had this discussion with Steve. It’s done. Get used to it. Garry’s not a bad guy. We just had a misunderstanding, a cross communication. It’s all good now, so lay the fuck off, or I’ll do what I threatened this morning.” There was a momentary flash of confusion in his blue-grey gaze. “I’ll knee you in the boys, Barnes.”

He flinched hard making you snicker. “That’s just cruel.”

“But effective,” you laughed.

Bucky’s smile slowly faded as he shook his head, his focus on you intensifying. “I know I’ve probably told you this already, but I’m real happy for you and Stevie. You’re good for him.”

“I think you’ve got that the other way around, Buck. He’s good for me.” You tried to make it a joke, but the way he was looking at you set you a little off kilter.

“No, no I said it right. Steve’s not the innocent Cap everyone thinks he is. You’re good for him, keep him on the straight and narrow. It is too bad though.” Reaching out, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Wh-what is?” you asked, trying not to gulp in air.

Bucky was an intense individual, but this was the first time he’d ever made you uncomfortable, made you want to take a step back, to put distance between you. “Tony said that night, at the party, you’d decided to give up on pining for Steve. I’m kinda choked I missed my window.” His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb dragging over your lip in a suggestive and blatant display which had you pulling back.

“Bucky… I…”

“Shh,” he hushed you. “It’s alright, (Y/N). I get it. Cap’s a hard guy to compete with. Forget I said anything.” Caressing your cheek a final time, a defeated smile on his lips, he walked away. “Be careful with Garry. I don’t trust him not to be a little shit.”

Watching the door swing shut, you swallowed to try and moisten your parched throat. Seconds after the door closed, it swung open again as Garry walked in, took one look at your face and hurried closer.

“Hey, (Y/N)? Is everything alright? What did Barnes want? I passed him in the hall.” Garry motioned toward the door.

You shook your head. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Hey?” His hand landed on your shoulder, face pulling into deeper concern and perhaps even a little hurt. “I thought we were past this. Let me help. Please?”

Grey eyes pleaded, and you sighed, deflating, completely disconcerted with what had just happened. “I think… I think he may have kind of just told me he had feelings for me… but that he knew he couldn’t compete with how I feel for Steve. I’m just… what the fuck!?” you barked, dragging your hands over your face.

“Yeah, well… can you blame him?” Garry asked, turning away.

“What?!” you yelped.

Sighing, Garry stared at his feet. “You’re gorgeous, tough, and a firecracker. Who isn’t attracted to that? I think I’ve seen every guy here look at you with heart eyes at some point.”

“Shut the fuck up!” you gasped, eyes enormous. There was no way, no way he could be right!

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

Turning back toward the range, you clenched your hands on the lip of the shelf you guns rested on. God how you wished Natasha or Wanda were around to talk to. They’d have you sorted out ASAP, but both were away for the next few weeks, leaving you to fend for yourself. “Shit…” you hissed.

“Look, it’s no big deal. People have crushes all the time. Hell, I had one on you for the longest time till you turned into a total raging bitch.”

You looked up sharply only to find him grinning at you. “Are you _teasing_ your superior?”

He nudged you with his elbow. “Depends. She gonna kick me through a wall if I say yes?”

“No. But I have loaded weapons, and I’m not opposed to sending you down range to manually change out the targets.”

He chuckled when you smirked, making you snicker.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” you quipped, deciding to put it all behind you to think about - or not, you were rather good at ignoring things you preferred not to deal with - at a later date. 

Garry, however, was not. “Hey, (Y/N)? Don’t worry about what Bucky had to say. He’s right in that he missed out, but it’s not like he’d _do_ or _say_ anything that would strain your relationship with Steve, right?”

“Yeah, right. Of course.” You nodded your agreement, but the words Bucky had spoken resonated in your mind. What did he mean by keep Steve on the straight and narrow?

***

Meanwhile, in the lab on the far side of the compound, Bucky sneezed for the third time. “Jeez, sorry man,” he snuffled, shrugging when Tony glared at him.

“If you’re coming down with something I’m going to be seriously annoyed having spent the last forty minutes trapped in here with you should you pass it on,” the Iron Man grumbled, continuing to tinker with the exposed wires in Bucky’s arm.

“Maybe someone’s talking about him,” Scott called from the doorway, grinning at the both of them as he wandered his way into Tony’s lab. “What you up to, Stark?”

“Nothing you can help with Ant boy,” he muttered, swearing when a spark flew up from two touching wires. “Fuck!”

“Damn it, Tony!” Bucky bellowed when his hand clenched spasmodically. “If you’re only going to make it worse I’ll wait for the tech boys to get back from lunch.”

“And who designed your arm, Tin Bot? Me! I’ll know better what’s going on in there than they will any day!” Tony snapped.

“Hey, I have a masters in electrical engineering. Maybe I can help?” Scott offered, wandering across the room to take a look.

“You?” Tony snorted. “You get your little ant-y hands in here, and we’ll be at this another thirty just to undo the damage you’ve done.”

“Oh, come on!” Scott whined. “No one ever lets me tinker anymore. I mean, heck, I figured out how to unshrink myself when I went subatomic! C’mon! _Pleeeease_?”

Tony looked at Bucky who shrugged. “Can’t be any worse than what you just did.”

“When he fries all the circuits, and your arm falls off, don’t come crying to me,” Tony huffed, pushing back to let Scott have a look. “Though, if it does, it will be the second most entertaining thing I witnessed today.”

“Oh yeah?” Scott muttered. “What was the first?” he asked, bending to have a look at Bucky’s arm. “Holy Jesus! Look at all those wires!”

Chuckling at the wary look now coating Bucky’s face, Tony smirked wickedly. “Listening to (Y/N) try and talk Cap into skipping his meeting with me. She nearly succeeded. The force is strong with that one,” he snickered.

“And you were eavesdropping… _why_?” Bucky asked, still eyeing Scott who was poking and prodding at his arm.

“Went looking for Cap because he was late. Cap’s never late. Just happened to find him in (Y/N)’s room… rather _occupied_ , if you get my meaning.”

“I could do without the brow wiggle, Stark,” Bucky grumbled before a smirk twitched his lips. “What she do when she found out you were there?”

“Called me perverted. Threatened to tell Pepper,” he snorted, “like she doesn’t know already. Rogers was already so late we may as well have skipped the meeting as Wilson was dragging him off to something or other far too soon, and I had to get my ass here to deal with this.” He waved his hand at Bucky’s arm.

“Surprised she didn’t kick your ass- _ahhhh!_ ” Bucky yelped in surprise when Scott sent sparks firing from the opening of his arm.

“Sorry! Sorry! That’s my bad!” Scott yelped, rapidly patting out flames.

Sighing, Tony glared at Scott before peering down at the fried wires in Bucky’s arm. “Well, that’s just _great_. What did I say? Another thirty just to fix what Lang has now fried.”

“I’m gonna be here all damn day,” Bucky sighed. “And I wanted to go harass (Y/N) on the gun range.”

“That girl’s got skills,” Scott agreed.

“Unlike you,” Tony huffed.

“Hey!” Scott groused, shutting up quickly when Bucky glared at him. “So, uh… what were we trying to fix here anyway?” The Ant-Man exited the lab at speed when Tony threw a wrench at his head.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Garry being an absolute shit.

## Chapter Five

* * *

Three days went by. Three days in which you spent almost more time with Garry than you did with Steve. Three days in which you were so rattled by what Bucky had said to you, you’d taken to avoiding him as much as possible. Something easier said than done even in a compound the size of the one you were living in, and it was messing with your head.

It was like he had two personalities. When he was around everyone else, he was the same old Bucky, the good-natured friend, the laughing, teasing jokester you’d always had fun with. Then, when he’d catch you alone, it was a _lot_ less harmless. It was flirting, and sly glances, comments that would generally seem harmless had taken on completely new subtext. He made you uncomfortable but never more than that. He didn’t touch you beyond what was normal, yet still, he was freaking you the freakout!

It all came to a head the morning of the third day when, on your way to see Tony in his lab, you ran into Bucky in the hallway.

“Hey, doll face,” he said with a wide grin. “You avoiding me or something? I feel like I haven’t seen you in days.”

You frowned, weirded out again as he’d seen you just yesterday when he’d flirted with you in the elevator. “Haha, funny, Barnes,” you grumbled, making to step around him.

He took hold of your upper arm drawing you to a stop. “Hey, (Y/N)? What’s wrong? Did I do something to piss you off, cause if I did just tell me and I’ll apologize. We’re friends, and you’re Steve’s girl. I can’t have you mad at me.”

The innocent look of confusion on his face only made you madder. “Maybe you should have thought of that _before_ you opened your big mouth!” Jerking your arm away, a difficult thing to accomplish with his metal hand, you glared at him.

“Hey! Whoa! Stop your roll, darlin'! What’s your beef? What I do?” he held up his hands in surrender.

“You know damn well what you did! How could you, Bucky? How could you do this to me? To Steve? _Why_?” Shaking your head, you waved your hands at him, dismissing anything he had left to say. “I haven’t said anything to Steve, I’m not going to, but until you pull your head out of your ass stay the fuck away from me!” Turning, you made to stomp away, only to have him snag you by the arm and drag you back around.

“What in the ever loving _fuck_ are you talking about?” he snarled, eyes hard and winter soldier cold.

“Let go.” The cold hard rage inside you washed out in your voice as you stared him down.

“Not a chance, (Y/N). Not until you tell me _exactly_ what it is I’ve done to you and Steve.”

Drawing yourself up to your less than impressive full height, you snaked your hand up and gave his ear a hard twist. His howl of pain when he released you gave you great joy. “Stay away from me, Barnes. I mean it.”

Before he could retaliate Sam burst down the hallway and stepped between you. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What’s going on? What the hell, you two?”

Backing away, keeping your eyes on Bucky, you muttered to Sam, “Keep him away from me.”

“(Y/N)?” Sam looked at you with furrowed brows.

“I mean it.” Turning smartly on your heel, you head for the lab, unaware of the look shared by Bucky and Sam.

Sam jogged after you, catching up quickly, tugging you into an empty office. “Spill it. What the hell was that?”

Closing your hands over your elbows, you hugged yourself tightly. “I don’t know, Sam. I don’t know. He’s… he said a thing… and the thing has me all twisted up.”

“What thing?” he asked, moving to rest his hip against the table you were leaning on.

“Crazy things. Things about feelings and Steve and…” You thrust a hand through your hair. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You could talk to Steve. Get him to sort this out.”

You looked to Sam, his eyes downcast, hands twisting together and inhaled sharply. “No!” you barked, backing away and pointing at him to stay where he was.

“Wh-what?” he stammered, eyes widening.

“If you give me some bullshit story about how everyone has these hidden feelings that they’ve kept locked down because I was mooning over Steve, so help me god, Wilson, I will fucking pluck you!”

“I don’t have feathers, shorty,” he teased, but it was half-hearted and full of regret.

“Oh _hell_ no!” Continuing to back toward the door you shook your head. “You can just join Bucky on my shit list! No contact, Wilson, until you also pull your head out of your ass!” Bursting out the door, you ran for the lab.

If Tony waxed poetic, made cow eyes at you, or said anything sappy, you were heading for the hills. It was all too damn weird!

The door slammed shut behind you, and the mask of Sam fell away revealing Garry, whose smile slowly spread. Pulling out his phone, the one given to him special as it was undetectable by Stark’s annoying AI, he pressed a preprogrammed number and waited.

“Status?”

“Proceeding as we discussed.”

“Progress?”

“She’s retreating from them. Two down.”

“Excellent.”

The line went dead, and Garry stuffed the phone away. It was time to up the stakes.

***

Later that afternoon, after having had a relaxing and completely normal conversation with Tony - thank god - you were going through the briefing when the knock sounded on your door. Calling out enter, you didn’t bother to look up until the door shut with a quiet click. “Bucky,” you hissed, rising to your feet. “What did I say earlier?”

He held up his hands, not moving from his place before the door. “I came to apologize.”

Blinking in shock, you straightened. “Really?”

“Yeah. Look, doll, I can’t apologize for my feelings, or for the fact that I was a fat-head and didn’t say something sooner. Maybe if I had…” he shrugged, “that ain’t the here nor there of why I’ve come to see you.” He motioned toward one of your desk chairs.

Giving a wary nod, you settled in your own, keeping the width of the desk between you. It wouldn’t do any good if he wanted to close the distance, but it gave you a sense of separation at least. “Why are you here, Buck? Cause if it was just to apologize, you did a shit job.”

“Look I’ll… I’ll keep my distance if that’s what you want, but… I gotta warn you, doll face,” he swallowed, looked at his hands.

“Bucky?” His discomfort worried you.

“Steve… he, he loves you, (Y/N) he really does, but… Sharon…”

You froze at that name, well aware of who Sharon was and what she had once been to Steve. As far as you’d known, she’d been out of the picture nearly a year before your arrival, and you hadn’t ever met her, nor had she had contact with Steve since their break up. “What are you saying, Bucky?”

“He was real hung up on her. I heard tell she may be coming back. Don’t know if it will be permanent or just for a mission or two, but… I don’t want to see you get hurt if Steve… reacts poorly.”

“You think he’ll leave me for her if the opportunity presents itself?” you whispered, heart aching.

“I just… want you prepared for the possibility.”

“He wouldn’t do that!” you rose angrily to your feet, “He wouldn’t! He’s not that kind of guy!”

“Doll…” Bucky sighed, getting to his. “I’ve known Steve a hell of a lot more years than you. Sharon is related to Peggy. She’s his closest link to his past. Who better to know what he’d do… but me?”

“Get out,” you whispered.

“Darlin,” he reached for you as the first tears fell.

“Get the fuck out of my office. Don’t come back, Barnes. Don’t come near me or I won’t be held responsible for my actions.” You refused to look at him, holding yourself together by a thread until the door shut quietly behind him. Only then did you collapse back into your chair.

Laying your head on your desk, you let the tears flow with all the insecurities you kept buried. You were just so… _normal_. Everyone was someone special, someone important, someone better than you. If this _Sharon_ did come back, could Bucky be right? Would Steve choose her?

“Oh… god,” you whispered, unable to deal with the pain racing through your heart.

“Hey, (Y/N)? You got a minute… oh hell!” Garry swore, shutting the door quickly behind him and rushing to your side. “What is it? Are you hurt? Did something happen to Steve?”

You shook your head, turning your head on your desk to see Garry, blurry with your eyes full of tears. “Bucky…” you sobbed, hiccupped and snuffled.

“Hey, hey now,” he soothed, petting your hair. “What did that asshole say to you? Do I have to beat him up? Should I get Steve?”

“No!” you cried, turning your face back to the desk. “No, no, Steve.”

“C’mon,” he coaxed, “tell me what the metal wonder said to you. You need to talk to someone, and I’m willing to listen.”

He was a nice guy, Garry. The last few days had seen you growing closer as he’d opened up, revealed all kinds of things about his life, past, and family. He really had no one, no family. Had been in and out of foster care as a kid, had run away completely once he was fifteen, staying on his own and using his abilities to get by. Shield had found him after he’d fallen in with the wrong crowd, offering him a chance to straighten up, get his shit together, and do some good for once instead of the harm he had been causing, and he’d leaped at the chance.

Once he’d taken the chip off his shoulder, the nice guy beneath the gruff exterior had come out, and you liked him. He was fun, laughing, chatting, and he really was easy to talk to.

Sitting back, you smiled your thanks when he handed you the Kleenex box. “He warned me about Sharon’s imminent arrival,” you sniffled.

“Sharon? Who’s Sharon?”

“Sharon was Peggy’s relation, Steve’s Peggy.” That reference needed no explanation. Everyone knew of Steve and Peggy. “He and Sharon had a thing before… just before.”

“And? So what?” he asked, evidently confused.

“According to Bucky, Steve’s still hung up on her. He… he thinks Steve…” more tears welled as you sobbed, “will _leave_ me!”

“Oh, shit!” Garry’s eyes grew wide.

“I never should have told him! I should have just left! Why didn’t I just _leave_?” you wailed, thoroughly distraught.

“Okay, okay,” he stroked his hands down your arms, offering comfort. “You know you’re being stupid, right?

"Your head snapped up. “What?”

“You’re being stupid, listening to what Barnes said. He’s already jealous of your relationship with Steve, of course, he’s going to say something fucked up like that to make you doubt yourself. If you’re anxious, ask Steve. Ask him outright if he has feelings still for this… _Sharon_.” He rolled his eyes in such a way as to show how foolish he thought it was making you snort laugh.

Leaning toward him, you hugged him much to his apparent surprise. “You know, Garry, you’re a really nice guy. I’m glad we’re friends. Thank you,” you said, sighing when he tentatively hugged you back.

“Hey, no worries. You mentor me through the hard stuff, like shooting and escaping Barton’s arrows, and I’ll help you navigate male B.S,” he snickered.

Laughing, you pulled away and dried your eyes. “What did you need?” you asked, wondering why he’d come to your office in the first place.

Confusion joined the blank look on his face. “Huh? Oh… right… jeez,” he tapered off, frowning. “Well, shit. Now I can’t remember.”

“Don’t worry about it. That happens to me all the time.” Shrugging, you looked down at the mess you’d made of all your paperwork. “Want to learn how to file a report properly?” you asked hopefully.

He groaned but gave in. “Fine! But you owe me!”

***

That night was the weekly movie night and all the team, including the newbies, had gathered in the common area to argue over what was on the docket to be watched. Technically it was Nat’s turn to do the choosing, but as she and Wanda, as well as Vision, were still away the choice had fallen to a group vote.

The arguing had intensified to the point where it was giving you a headache, and you got to your feet to leave when Steve took your hand.

“Where you going?” he asked quietly, mouth close to your ear.

“Bed,” you muttered, rubbing at your temple. “I’ve got a headache brewing.” That and you had no desire to be stuck in the same room with Bucky who’d taken to looking at you with a combination of anger and concern.

Sam at least had been called away for a couple of days, leaving you one less idiotic male to deal with.

“Yeah?” Steve cupped your chin, drawing your eyes up. He frowned, evidently able to see the pain in your eyes. “C’mon then. Let’s get you settled, baby.” His arm wrapped your waist, encouraging you away from the barking, snarling, hollering going on behind you.

Remaining silent, you walked on, breathing deeply of the scent of his aftershave. He always smelled so damn good it should be illegal. It would be heartbreaking if you lost the luxury of being able to press your nose to his chest and inhale his pleasing scent. The thought of losing Steve brought back Bucky’s words from earlier, and by the time you’d made it to Steve’s room, you were an anxious mess.  

Stopping at the door, Steve gently passed his hand over your hair. “(Y/N)? Sweetheart? What’s wrong? You’ve been… off the last few days.”

Hand on the knob, you pushed the door in, walking into the darkened interior without bothering to turn on the lights. “It’s… been a weird few days.”

“Weird how?” he asked, shutting the door behind him. “Something to do with Garry?”

You made the mistake of shaking your head and groaned, pressing fingers to your temple. “No, that’s been fine. It’s… other things.”

Warm, strong fingers closed over the back of your neck and began to knead the flesh. They had a whimper passing your lips.

“What things?” he murmured, pressing his thumbs into the base of your skull.

You wanted to moan, turning into putty beneath his talented fingers. “Just… things.”

“C’mon, darlin,” he placed a kiss against your temple. “I know it’s something. You’ve been… _sharp_ with Buck lately. He’s upset, wondering what he did.”

The unladylike snort burst forth. “He knows damn well what he did.”

“Well, maybe you should tell me what he did. Then I can clear the air.”

“No, Steve. You don’t need to step between us. Bucky can pull his head from his ass all by himself.”

A large hand closed around your throat, tilting your head back. “You won’t let me help? Bucky’s my oldest friend. I hate seeing the two of you at odds.”

You flinched at the words _oldest friend_ , Bucky’s warning echoing in your head:

_I’ve known Steve a hell of a lot more years than you. Sharon is related to Peggy. She’s his closest link to his past. Who better to know what he’d do… but me?_

Swallowing down the bile rising in your throat as the flood of pain washed through your heart, you pulled away from his hands. “If Sharon came back into your life, would you leave me for her?” The words were out before you even knew you were going to say them.

“What?”

The quiet gasp of breath had you glancing to Steve’s face, but without light, it was nearly impossible to tell what his facial expression was. “I’ve heard that Sharon’s on her way back. That she’s coming here for a mission or permanently or something… and I… I just… will you?” Twisting your hands together, you shut your eyes.

Warm hands caressed your cheeks, cupped your jaw, lifted your face. Soft lips pressed to yours, moulded, clung.

“Baby,” he whispered, hands gentle and slow as the travelled over your throat, down your arms, up your back. He touched you with reverence, with care, with love. He took your clothes from you slowly, methodically, removing each piece as if you were precious and would shatter if he touched you too forcefully.

Lifting you, he made his way through the room, placing you on your shared bed. Lips again found yours, devastating kisses which had tears welling at his care. When he finally lifted enough for you to breathe, they walked the curve of your cheek.

“I love you, baby, so much,” he whispered, big hands caressing and touching, worshiping.

“Steve,” you moaned, clinging to him.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“Steve,” you sighed happily. “Love you, Stevie.”

It wasn’t until hours later when he’d fallen asleep, head pillowed on your breast, arms holding you tight, that you realized… he never answered your question.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst out the wazoo, swearing, Garry being a shit
> 
> Song: Can you hear me by Fleurie

## Chapter Six

* * *

A few days later you were ready to scream, or cry, or shoot someone, you weren’t quite sure which.

Bucky still watched you, the frown a permanent addition to his face. It was disconcerting as hell being scrutinized like that, but he did as asked and kept his distance.

Clint had left in the middle of the night the same day you’d had your blow up with Sam and Bucky, Tony informing everyone of a family emergency. Nothing major, just Laura had caught one of the kid’s colds and was down for the count.

You couldn’t blame him for leaving, but even he’d been far more tight-lipped than usual, showing his disapproval of your choice of mentorship with his silence. It would have been nice to clear the air and say goodbye, but it was too late now. It would have been nice to talk to him about some of the shit going down around you.

Clint may be a guy, but the man was seriously the most observant person… ever. If anyone could sort this shit out, it would have been Clint or Nat.

_God, I miss Nat,_ had become a near mantra in your mind. The redhead would have shared a bottle of vodka with you, got you wasted, thrown you at Steve and told him to fix it.

Fix it. Yeah.

Ever since you’d asked him about Sharon and he’d deflected, you’d lost all confidence in yourself. Steve touched you, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking of Sharon. He’d whisper words of love, and you’d wonder if he’d said the same to her.

It had gotten so bad; you were starting to hear her name everywhere as if everyone knew she was on her way back. You kept trying to convince yourself your co-workers weren’t sending you pitying glances, weren’t ending conversations when you walked in the room, but when Susan from accounting patted your arm and assured you it was “ _just rumours”_ and _Steve was such a good guy_ you damn near punched her in the face.

Scrubbing your hands over your face, you stared out the window of Bruce’s lab, waiting for him to arrive. He’d asked for help with an experiment, and while you weren’t sure what it all entailed, you didn’t mind assisting. Bruce talked a lot, his voice soft and gentle when he was Dr. Jekyll and not Mr. Hulk. It was soothing. You could handle a little soothing right about now.

Quiet footsteps had you turning to smile at the man himself; only your smile died at the look on his face. “Bruce? Is this a bad time? I thought you wanted my help?”

“Oh, uh. Yah, no. I decided to do it another day. I’m good.” He fidgeted with his glasses.

It wasn’t the same nervous fidget Sam had had. This was more a ' _please don’t have touched anything'_ fidget, not an ' _I'm about to express my hidden love'_ fidget. “Hey? Is everything… okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s fine. I just don’t need your help.”

There was an inflection on the ‘ _your’_ you couldn’t help but notice. “Bruce? Are you… mad at me? Did I do something wrong?”

He sighed a little, picked up a beaker, put it back. “Look, (Y/N). I don’t want to hurt your feelings but…” he opened and closed his mouth, looked at you, sighed again. “It’s just… Sharon’s going to be back soon, and she was great at helping me out. She even knew a bit about what I was talking about and-”

“You’d rather she help,” you cut him off with a sharp nod. “Yup, sure. Whatever.” Turning on your heel, you went out the side door, unwilling to let him see how much his words hurt.

***

Garry was standing in the middle of his lab, watching the opposite door swing shut when Bruce walked in.

“What are you doing in here?” Bruce asked, looking around at his equipment carefully. “Was that (Y/N)?”

“(Y/N) had something come up. She asked me to help you out instead,” Garry offered, giving a shrug when Bruce glared at him.

“She didn’t say anything to me.” He dug out his phone. “No text even.”

“Last minute change. Sorry, man.” Garry shrugged.

“I don’t like it. I’m gonna call her.”

Garry held up his hand. “I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”

“And why the fuck not?” Bruce asked, feeling the other guy scrape at the back of his skull. The big guy didn’t like Garry, he never had. That alone gave Bruce pause for it was rare the Hulk was ever wrong about someone.

The other guy had two settings, ' _I dislike you because I’m ornery, but I won’t kill you,'_ and _'I dislike you because there’s something wrong with you, and when I get my hands on you, you’ll be nothing but a meat sack with bones the size of pebbles'._

Garry fit column number two, but Bruce hadn’t figured out why yet.

Rubbing his palm over the back of his neck, Garry cringed a little under Bruce’s hard look. “She’s got a lot going on right now. This whole thing with Steve’s got her all twisted up.”

“What thing with Steve?” As far as Bruce knew the two of them were happy, stupidly so.

“Nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, no, no. If something’s wrong and you knew and did nothing I’ll kick your ass, now spill it!” Bruce growled and had his voice echo with a much deeper one.

Garry took a cautious step in retreat. “Okay, okay! Just calm down, Dr. Banner.”

“I’m always calm!” he barked.

Holding up his hands, Garry swallowed, fear rolling off him in waves which set the other guy chuckling. “She’s been unhappy. Second guessing her relationship with Steve. It’s a lot to live up to all that hype.”

“Hype?”

“You know… he’s famous. She’s not. Suddenly her life is under a microscope. She’s just afraid she made a mistake. Maybe being with Steve isn’t all she thought it would be.”

Bruce’s fist came down on his desk and left a very large dent. “Get out.”

Shock rippled across Garry’s face. “What? Why?”

“Because you’re full of shit! I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but that’s the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard! (Y/N) loves him and he loves her, and she damn well knew what being with him would entail before that happened!” A haze of red washed through his vision, and he gasped in air, forcing the Hulk to back down.

Garry backed toward the door. “If I’m so full of shit, how come I found her crying over Steve in her office a few days ago?”

Stunned, the Hulk receded completely. “What?”

“Yeah. Bawled her damn eyes out. Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think, Dr. Banner,” Garry quipped before he walked away.

Sitting on a stool, Bruce rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Jesus…”

If (Y/N) left Steve… it would kill Cap.

“Fuck!” Bruce hissed, unaware of the smile his unrest put on Garry’s face.

***

You headed for Tony’s lab, tears threatening as your world crumbled around you. Everything was just… falling apart and you weren’t sure how to stop it. Walking in on Tony cursing was nothing new, but when he threw the wrench across the room and nearly beaned you with it, you knew it was bad.

“Tony?”

“What!” he snapped, causing you to flinch.

“Is everything… okay?”

“Does it _look_ like everything is okay?” he barked. Grease smeared both forearms, a swipe of it coated his cheek, and a third darkened his forehead.

“Can I help?” you asked, retrieving the wrench and taking it to him.

“I don’t know, (Y/N), do you know anything about the mechanics of my suits? Can you stop the blowout that keeps happening in this new thruster? Do you have any working knowledge at all in the design and modifications I’m putting in? Do you?” he asked, voice rising with each subsequent question.

You set the wrench down on the table beside him. “No… no, I don’t,” you whispered, biting back the tears which had resurfaced to burn your eyes.

“Then what good are you!?” he snarled, never bothering to look up from the exposed wires and mechanics of his boot.

“None.” Swiping at the tear falling down your cheek, you walked away, murmuring as you went out the door, “Maybe when Sharon gets here she can help.”

***

Tony looked up at Dummy with a frown. “Sharon?” He turned to take in his empty lab. “Wait, what? (Y/N)?”

“She left, boss,” FRIDAY informed him quietly. “She seemed upset.”

“Yeah, well, who isn’t today?” he grumbled. “What’s this about Sharon?”

“She’s on her way, bringing Intel for an upcoming mission.”

“Hmm, whatever,” he huffed. Tony had never really liked Sharon.

She was nice enough, he guessed, but he hadn’t been a fan, and when she and Cap had called it quits, he’d been happy about it. Cap was much better suited with the firecracker that was (Y/N), someone who saw Cap for who and what he was and still didn’t take his crap.

He would deny it till the end of time, but… (Y/N) was Tony’s favourite.

She didn’t take his crap, usually, either, but today she had. Her reaction concerned him even as he tried not to show it.

He’d deal with it later.

“Boss?”

“What is it FRIDAY?”

“I’ve been picking up unusual readings since my last upgrade.”

“What kind of readings?”

“The kind that comes from a communications source _outside_ the realm of our own.”

He froze, hand hovering before putting his tools down. “Show me.”

***

Slipping into an empty office, you quietly shut the door and pulled out your phone. Pressing the preprogrammed number, you waited as the phone rang. It rang and rang and rang. As it continued to purr in your ear, you felt yourself crumble.

The steel went out of your spine, and you sagged forward, slumped over until it was suddenly answered with a blunt, “Yeah?”

“Clint?”

“Hey, brat. Look this ain’t exactly a good time. Nathaniel’s throwing up, Lila and Cooper are both barking like seals, and I’m on a juice run for Laura. Can it wait?”

You bit your lip, closing your eyes to hold yourself tightly together. “Yeah, sure thing. Sorry to be a bother.”

“Hey, hey now! You’re not a bother, sweetheart,” his voice softened, and you could hear his smile. “Are you alright, brat? You… don’t sound good.”

“I’ll be fine, feathers. Take care of your family.”

“You’re family too, darlin’. Don’t forget that.”

A little piece of the pain vanished. At least one of them still loved you. “Hey, Clint?”

“Yeah, brat?”

“I love you. You know that, right?”

“What’s not to love?” he chuckled. “Got to run, brat. I’ll call when I can. And, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t call me feathers!” He hung up on your soft chuckle.

Staring at the phone in your hand, you smiled. “Thank you, Clint.” Wiping your face, you tucked the phone away, a little steadier, a little less conflicted, and went back to work. No matter what, you could always count on Hawkeye to have your back.

***

Staring at the phone in his hand, Clint frowned. “I don’t like it,” he muttered.

“Like what?” Laura snuffled as she shuffled into the kitchen.

“Shit! You’re juice, sorry love.” He moved toward the fridge.

She waved him off with the Kleenex clutched in her fingers. “S’fine. What’s wrong?”

“It was (Y/N). She didn’t sound good.”

Pouring juice into a glass, Laura mirrored his frown. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” he shook his head. “I don’t know what I mean. She sounded sad and near tears. I don’t like it, Laura.”

“You don’t think she’s having problems with Steve, do you?”

“Couldn’t be. You should have seen how stupidly in love they are. He looks at her and gets all melty-faced,” Clint snickered.

“Kind of how you are when you look at me?” she teased.

“Well, you gave me three beautiful, if disgusting, children, so how could I not look at you like that?” he asked, coming up to wrap his arms around her waist.

“Haha, Barton,” she grumbled, “So, what? Is it this… Garry?”

Tucking his nose in her throat, ignoring the scent of vapour rub, Clint breathed her in. “I don’t know. There’s something about him. He’s… sketchy.”

“Sketchy?” she snorted, amused.

“Like a used car salesman. He’s hooked her in, but he doesn’t fool me. He wants something. I just don’t know what yet.”

Turning, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Then I guess you’d best get back there and figure it out,” she ordered, only to break down in fits of coughing.

Holding her gently, Clint sighed. “When you can stop sounding like a chorus of seals, I’ll head back, but I’m not leaving you to fend for yourself with those three disgusting-” she glared at him, “angels.”

“You’d best call her, at least. Don’t leave it too long… _feathers_.”

“Oi! Don’t be starting something you can’t finish, woman!” he chuckled, sweeping her off her feet.

“Clint!” she gasped. “Put me down! I’m too heavy!”

He snorted. “You’re a bit of a thing I’m putting back to bed before the next round of snot and vomit ensues.”

Kissing the top of her head, he did just that, and if he stumbled once on the stairs, she was nice enough not to say anything.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Angst, swearing
> 
> Song: Hurts Like Hell by Fleurie

## Chapter Seven

* * *

Feeling better after your short talk with Clint, you headed toward your office and smiled when you ran into Garry in the corridor. “Hey. Where you been?”

“Around,” he shrugged, smiling at you.

“Well, would _around_ be up for an afternoon of target practice?”

“Hell yeah!” he cheered, offering you a high five.

As you laughed and made to slap his palm, the two of you rounded the corner only to come upon Steve and a beautiful blonde woman. You came to a complete, dead stop. “Oh,” popped out on an exhalation of breath, causing Steve’s head to whip toward you.

A flush of red built in his cheeks and his smile appeared… guilty. “(Y/N), dollface, come meet Agent Sharon Carter,” he called out, motioning you closer as he eyed Garry.

Knowing you were stuck, you nodded to Garry to stay put, and made your way forward, a smile plastered on your face. “Nice to meet you, Agent Carter.” You held out your hand, and she shook it warmly, a genuine smile on her lips.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” she said, looking to Steve. “You’ve been part of the Avengers for a while now. I’ve seen the reports. You’ve saved Cap’s butt a few times.”

“He’s saved mine just as many,” you chuckled quietly, smile softening.

“It must be nice to have such a dependable teammate, right Steve?” Releasing your hand, she placed it on Steve’s arm.

“(Y/N)’s the best,” Steve smiled at Sharon, patting the fingers on his arm.

The entire exchange soured your stomach, and you turned to go. “Nice meeting you, Agent Carter.”

“Likewise!” she called.

Hurrying away, you didn’t notice the concerned frown on Steve’s face or the way Garry watched you with smug satisfaction. Pressing a hand to your stomach, you made it only as far as the closest bathroom before you ran inside and were violently ill.

The way they’d looked at each other, the familiarity with which she’d touched him. The way he hadn’t corrected her when she’d assumed you were only another of Steve’s teammates. The whole of it set you off in another round of gut heaves.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Garry called, pushing open the door a crack. “You okay?”

“No,” you croaked as the tears started and you leaned your head against the arm you had draped over the bowl as you flushed the sick away. Too bad you couldn’t flush the despair as well.

The door shut and you assumed he’d left only to have a hand come down on your hair. “It’s going to be alright,” he murmured, stroking your hair and rubbing over your back soothingly.

“No, no it’s not!” you cried. “She’s beautiful, she’s smart, and everyone likes her. Even Bruce told me she was better than me! Then Tony called me useless.”

An unseen grin flashed swiftly over Garry’s face. “You’re not useless. You’re great! I think you’re great at least.”

Slumping over your arm, you sighed. “Thank you. Would it be alright if we reschedule target practice? I think… it would be best if I just went and laid down.”

“Sure. No problem, teach,” he quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

You smiled a little. “You’re a good guy, Garry. I’m sorry I never gave you the benefit of the doubt before.”

He helped you to your feet, wiping the tears from beneath your eyes. “I’m always here if you need me, alright? Night or day. Anything you need. You’re the only one to give me a chance, (Y/N). I’ll do whatever I can to repay that. Whether it’s beating some sense into Steve, or… I don’t know… helping you run away. Whatever you need.” He squeezed your fingers.

“I appreciate that, Garry. Really.” Thrusting your hand through your hair, you gave him another small smile and trudged out of the bathroom.

***

Waiting for the door to swing shut, Garry turned the lock with a quiet click and pulled out his special phone.

“Report.”

“Things are progressing faster than expected.”

“Explain,” demanded the gruff voice on the other end.

“Three are out of the picture, and Stark did my job for me.”

“And the Captain?”

“Carter’s in the building. It’s only a matter of setting the stage.”

“You’re so sure she’ll rabbit?”

“I’ll make sure she sees no other choice. Good thing half the teams away. Made my job that much easier.”

“Good. Inform us when it’s done, and she’s running. We’ll be ready.”

“Yes, sir.” The line went dead. Tucking the phone back in his pocket, Garry sauntered out of the washroom, unaware of the hard eyes of the metal-armed super soldier who watched him.

****

“No good, boss. I can’t seem to… wait! Another call was just made.”

“Where?” Tony snapped. “Show me!”

The screens around him shifted, changed, whizzed through the compound and landed on the washroom not far from his lab. “Cameras?”

“Not there.”

“Why the fuck don’t we have cameras there?” he muttered. “Biometrics?”

“Three bodies. Bucky, (Y/N), and Garry,” Friday told him. “Steve and Agent Carter were also in the vicinity, but they were farthest from the signal.”

His fingers tapped out a rhythm on the consul to his right. “Garry….” he muttered.

“Sir?”

“Yeah, FRIDAY?”

“I’m not sure if it’s relevant, but I believe I have a glitch.”

“Glitch?” Tony snorted. “I designed you. That’s as likely as the Hulk taking tea with the Queen. Explain.”

“I seem to be… seeing double.”

***

Steve stared after (Y/N) with a worried frown.

“You should go after her,” Sharon urged. “She didn’t look well.”

Scrubbing his hand over his face, Steve sighed. “I didn’t want to spring you on her like that. She was already asking weird questions.”

It was Sharon’s turn to frown. “What kind of questions?”

“Just… foolish questions.” He shook his head, unwilling to talk about it with Sharon when his ex already made his girl uncomfortable.

“Steve… you’d better go talk to her.” Sharon gave him a shove. “I need to get this stuff to logistics so they can get that mission planned. Don’t leave it.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, walking away, heading the direction she’d gone. “Thanks, Sharon. See you later.”

Sharon waved and headed the opposite direction.

He was worried, how could he not be.

Ever since (Y/N)’s falling out with Bucky, things had been spiralling out of control. She was moody and depressed. The confidence and snark he’d found so sexy and appealing were suddenly non-existent. She’d become a shell of her former self, jumping at shadows, asking crazy questions.

How could she have ever even _asked_ if he’d leave her for Sharon? The very idea of it was laughable. Sharon was sweet, but she wasn’t his girl. His girl was fire and bravado, backed up with skill and talent. She may be a _normie_ as the enhanced and Inhumans called them, but she was a damn fine agent and an incredible woman.

He’d give anything to figure out what the hell was going on with her. Things were getting out of hand.

Lost in thought, he rounded the corner and ran smack into Garry, knocking the man right to the ground. “Hey, sorry.” Holding down his hand, Steve helped the guy up. “My fault.”

“No harm done, Cap. You look… worried. Everything alright?”

He eyed the man warily. (Y/N) liked him, Steve still wasn’t sure why. He was smug, arrogant, and a shit disturber. Something about him set Steve’s hair on end. “Yeah, fine. You seen (Y/N)?”

“She went to her room. Something about not feeling good. A headache or something. Probably best you leave her be.” Garry shrugged.

The old itch that preceded a firefight when he was in the army was suddenly zinging at the back of his neck. Something about this wasn’t right, but he wasn’t going to tip his hand. “Maybe I’ll give her an hour and check on her later. Thanks, Garry.” Plopping his closed fist down on the man’s shoulder, Steve tried not to smirk too wide when Garry grunted in pain.

“Anytime,” he wheezed, trying not to groan as he rubbed his shoulder.

Waiting a few feet before chuckling, Steve made his way toward the private quarters after glancing back to make sure he wasn’t being followed. Just before he got there, a hand shot out of another open doorway, dragging him inside. “Jeez, Buck! Give a guy a warning. I nearly clocked you one!”

“Like you could hit me, punk.” Bucky snorted, waving off Steve’s protests. “We need to talk, pal.”

“About?”

“(Y/N),” he nearly growled. “What the fuck is going on?”

Steve thrust a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I really don’t.”

“Well, you’d best find out. Garry’s got something to do with it. I can almost smell it on him.” He flexed his metal hand. “And you’d best do something about your girl. She came out of the bathroom looking like someone had died, and shortly thereafter _Garry_ wandered out looking pleased as fuck.”

“What?” Steve asked, voice cold.

“She was crying, punk. Red-eyed and puffy, and it’s not the first I’ve noticed. Why haven’t you?”

“I…” Steve opened his mouth only to close it and sigh. “She’s shutting me out, and I don’t know why. Two weeks, Bucky. We’ve been together two weeks, and I feel like I’m losing her.”

“Then you need to get your ass to her room and talk this shit out, cause she looked like hell. Worse than hell. She looks liked death, pal. And a woman only looks like that when someone dies, or someones broke her heart.”

Feeling sick, Steve nodded. “You’re right.”

“And find out what the fuck I did, for god sake! It’s driving me insane!” Bucky growled.

“Yeah, yeah I will.” Before he could reach for the door handle, his phone rang. “Tony?” What was the Iron Man doing calling him when he could just have FRIDAY inform him he was needed.

“I need you to haul ass to the lab, now.” He hung up without another word.

Bucky’s phone rang next. “What the hell, Stark?”

“Just get here. You and Steve. No one else and don’t tell anyone else.” The line went dead.

“Guess we’re going to the lab,” Steve muttered, looking longingly in the direction he wished to go instead.

“You could still go,” Bucky said.

Sighing, Steve shook his head. “Garry said she wasn’t feeling good. Had gone to lay down. I’ll do this thing for Tony first.” Opening the door, they headed down the hall and past the common room where most of the newbies, including Garry, were chatting about the latest round of mock missions.

Garry looked up as they passed, but Steve pretended not to notice.

***

Bruce walked into Tony’s lab, into a storm of swearing and muttering. “Tony?”

Freezing in place, Tony said only, “FRIDAY?”

Bruce jumped when three different beams shot from different parts of the lab, scanning him thoroughly. “Ugh… Tony?”

“He’s good, boss.”

Straightening, Tony rounded on Bruce. “We’ve got a problem. Maybe little, may end up being a huge one, but we need to figure this out.”

Frowning, Bruce headed for the computer screens, reading as he went. “Unauthorized phone calls? Could it just be someone snuck in a personal cell phone?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Tony snapped.

“Don’t be a dick. I’m just asking,” Bruce huffed.

“Well, it was a stupid question.”

“Not as stupid as (Y/N) sending Garry to help me out in the lab today,” Bruce grumbled, picking and pulling at information, sorting through the ridiculous amounts of data.

“Huh?” Tony glanced at him. “Why would she do that? She likes helping you. Says she learns new stuff all the time.”

“I don’t know, but I showed up, and there was Garry. He even fed me some cock-o-mammy story about (Y/N) considering breaking up with Steve because she didn’t realize what she was getting herself into. I almost believed him, but it’s _Garry_ ,” Bruce scoffed. “She’s so head-over-heels for Steve… that’s not happening, not in a million years.”

Tony slowly turned to look at Bruce. “Uh…”

“What?”

“She was in here earlier. I kind of… chased her out with my mood. FRIDAY said she was upset.”

“Oh… shit,” Bruce hissed before he grunted and rubbed his temple, something he only did when the Hulk was actively participating in the conversation. “What time was that?”

“Don’t know. Hour ago. Maybe?”

Again Bruce frowned. “Why would she be in here with you, when she was supposed to be with me when Garry said she’d had something come up?”

“Garry....” Tony muttered, turning back to his computer. “Why does your name keep coming up?”

“Boss?”

“Speak, oh benevolent one,” Tony quipped.

“I found a discrepancy.”

“Show me!” he commanded.

“Here and here. Sergeant Barnes seems to be in two places at once.”

“What?” Bruce asked, confused.

“Keep looking, FRIDAY.” Digging in his pocket, Tony pulled out his phone.  

“Tony?” Steve asked, sounding more confused than usual.

“I need you to haul ass to the lab, now.” Tony hung up and dialled again.

Barnes was quick to answer with a snarled, “What the hell, Stark?”

“Just get here. You and Steve. No one else and don’t tell anyone else.” He hung up and turned to frown at the computer screens.

“Good thinking,” Bruce muttered.

“Should be the right ones if I phone them,” Tony murmured.

“Right ones?”

Tony’s frown deepened. “Think we have an imposter in-house… and I bet I know who.”

***

The text chimed on your phone, and you picked it up only to see a message from Steve. You’d kind of hoped he’d come after you, find you, force you to spill your guts and unload everything. But at the same time, you didn’t want to speak your fears and have them become truths.

What if you told him you were terrified he was going to leave you for Sharon, and he sighed and did it? It would break you right in half. You’d never recover.

Looking at the message, you read, ' _Hey, doll. We need to talk. Meet me in the lounge in ten minutes'._

You frowned at the message. It was rather abrupt, not Steve’s usual style, but you hauled yourself up and went in the bathroom to splash water on your face. There was no helping how horrible you looked. You looked like you felt. Tired. Drained. Sick. Heartbroken.

Two weeks. That’s how long it took for your world to go from heaven to hell. Three of your four in-house teammates had turned on you. You weren’t sure yet about Steve, but he’d turned on you in other ways.

Not saying anything, was that the equivalent of not denying it as well? Was this meeting to tell you he was done? That it had been fun, but he was getting back together with… _her_?

Feeling frozen, you grabbed a jacket, stuffed your feet in your boots, and headed for the lounge. It was a quiet space, big comfy chairs and a shitload of windows. It was a calm space, private. Great place to get dumped as any scene you happened to make would go unwitnessed.

Walking through the doors, you paused at the voices already present. One was Steve, but the other was too soft to make out. Sure you were early, but not that early. Creeping forward, you peered around the corner and slapped a hand to your mouth to hide your cry of distress. Steve was standing with none other than Sharon, his hand on her waist, another on her cheek.

“I’ve really missed you,” he said, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

“Steve?” she frowned, appearing confused.

He smiled that smile, the crooked one, the one you loved, the one that never failed to have you smiling back. “I think… I think we made a mistake… when we broke up,” he said.

She gasped, gaped at him. “What?”

“I should never have gotten together with (Y/N), not when I still have feelings for you, Sharon,” Steve pulled her in, but you’d seen enough.

With your heart breaking, you turned and ran. That was it. It was over. You’d lost… everything.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Violence
> 
> Song: Breaking the Habit by Linkin Park, cover by Jonathan Young (YouTube)

## Chapter Eight

* * *

If there was one thing you were good at, it was running. No, you couldn’t outrun Steve, you certainly couldn’t outrun Bucky, but when you wanted to kick it up a gear, you could give everyone else a challenge. So it came as little surprise when you found yourself standing in the garage not long after your heart had shattered, holding a motorcycle helmet in your hand. You’d run the length of the compound at speed, ignoring everyone who called out to you.

Staying was no longer an option. You couldn’t be here watching as Steve and Sharon got back together. You wouldn’t be able to stand it when everyone looked at you with pity when Bucky said he told you so. You weren’t going to wait around for Tony to tell you you’d been transferred because you were so damn useless now that _she_ was back.

Perfect, beautiful Sharon.

A sob broke from your chest, tears tracking your cheeks as you put the helmet on and dug for your phone. When it got hung up in your pocket, you gave a short bark of pain, jerking it free only to bobble it, nearly dropping it, finally clutching it to your chest. Shaking, crying, crushed, you somehow managed to punch out two text messages, one to Garry, apologizing for leaving so abruptly, the other to Nat, knowing she wouldn’t get it for a while, telling her everything had gone wrong, and you were leaving. That you’d text her once you’d figured your shit out.

Swiping up the keys, you had a moment of guilt for what you were about to do as you stole Steve’s bike. The beautiful blue Triumph motorcycle was his pride and joy, but it was fast, sleek and you needed to be gone right the fuck now. And Tony would skin you alive if you took one of his cars.

It purred into life beneath you, and you tore out of the garage, tears streaming unrestricted down your face. You waited until you were away from the compound, out of range of FRIDAY’s radar before pressing the call button on your phone. It had synced with your helmet as soon as you’d put it on.

“Call… feathers,” you gasped, the pain in your chest becoming almost unbearable.

Again it rang and rang as miles of trees flew past until it finally clicked into voice mail. “It’s Barton. You know what to do.”

The beep sounded, and your breath shuddered out as you sobbed, “Clint… Clint, I can’t… I can’t stay at the compound. Oh, god!” you cried out, breath heaving as tears blurred your vision. Snuffling hard, you coughed to clear your throat of the lump which had formed in it. “It’s all over, all gone. I have nowhere else to go, so I’m coming to you, feathers.” You clicked the end call button and opened the throttle.

****

Sharon blinked at the man before her in shock before pushing him away.

“Sharon?” he asked, smile faltering.

“I’m… going to have to think about this Steve,” she said softly, backing another few steps away.

“Of course,” he said, nodding and pulling out his phone when it chirped at him. The smile returned, was nearly gleeful, and something in his eyes had Sharon taking another step backward though he didn’t seem to notice. “Take your time. No rush.” He left without even looking at her and Sharon scrambled for her phone.

***

Walking into the lab, both Steve and Bucky were hit with lasers, causing Bucky to swear, “What the hell!”

“They’re clean, boss.”

“FRIDAY?” Steve muttered, frowning and blinking, having taken one right to the eyes.

Tony’s fist came down on the computer console with far more force than he should be using. “Something screwy is going on. It’s fucked up. I need Barnes to go through these logs with me, and I figured you needed to see this, Steve.”

Eyeing the screens, Steve shook his head. “What am I looking at?”

“Unauthorised outside communications. Two weeks’ worth here, but when FRIDAY dug deeper, she found the same was happening at the Tower. Harder to pin down there, but it’s the same signal,” Bruce muttered, still scanning.

“Add in the fact that Barnes has been showing up all over the place _twice_ , I’m starting to put two and two together,” Tony growled, “and it’s adding up to _Garry_!”

“Garry?” Steve’s face hardened. “Explain!”

Bucky was already looking over the few discrepancies FRIDAY had found. “This… look at this… son of a bitch. I’m gonna murder that little shit!”

Striding forward, Steve glared down at what Bucky was seeing. “There’s two of you?”

“Not damn likely,” Bucky snarled. “You got video for any of this?”

Tony threw his hand out behind him, an image of what looked like Barnes crowding (Y/N) in the elevator popped up. “Fuck…” Bucky hissed, eyes wide as he watched himself touch and flirt with her, clearly making her uncomfortable until the doors opened and she scurried out. “Fuck… fuck.” He thrust his hand through his hair. “Audio?”

“No.” Tony shook his head.

“I think I get why she’s pissed at you,” Steve muttered. “We need to see it all. Every aspect of what he’s been up to.”

“We’re working on it,” Bruce grumbled, voice deeper than usual.

Steve looked up in concern. “You alright there, Bruce?”

“The other guy’s not in a good place. He likes (Y/N), doesn’t like Garry. Really doesn’t like Garry.”

Bruce glanced his way, and Steve froze. There was a distinct tinge of green around his eyes. “Bruce…” he cautioned.

“I got it, Steve.”

“Are you sure-”

“I got it!” Bruce’s fist came down on the desk and dented it. Taking a deep breath in, he breathed it slowly out. “I got it,” he said, softer this time. “We have an agreement.”

“Alright, big guy,” Tony quipped, twirling his hand in the air. “Let’s run this back to the day we got here.”

Steve’s phone rang, and he pulled it free. “Sharon?”

“Where are you, Steven?” she asked, voice pinched and angry.

“Tony’s lab. Why?”

“If you’re in Tony’s lab, who the _hell_ just told me he still had feelings for me and thought we should get back together?”

Steve’s fist slowly clenched, as did his jaw. “He did _what_?” he growled.

“You stood in the lounge and told me being with (Y/N) was a mistake as you still had feelings for me. What the hell stunt is this, Steve?”

“Sharon, come to the lab. Now.” He hung up on her and turned to Tony. “Find Garry. Do it now.”

****

When your phone rang it startled you from the self-loathing tirade going on in your head so completely, you jerked the bike and nearly laid it down. Heart pounding in fear, your hand shook as you answered the call. “Clint?”

“Yeah, brat. What the fuck happened?” Clint demanded.

A sob broke from you as fresh tears fell to fog your visor. “It’s all over!” you cried, heart a fist of pain in your chest.

“Darling, I need you to calm down.”

“Can’t. Hurts too much,” you sniffled.

“Are you driving, brat?” he asked, voice full of concern.

“Bike.” Another hard sob shook you and made the bike wobble.

“Pull over, (Y/N). Right now. Pull over.”

“Can’t go back!”

“I’m not asking you to,” he coaxed gently, “but you’re upset. You can’t be driving in your state.”

“Can’t stop, feathers. Can’t stop. Hurts so bad…”

Clint looked at Laura and held out the phone. “Talk to her, see if you can make her pull over. I gotta make a call.”

Nodding, Laura took the phone. “Hey, (Y/N). I hear you’re coming for a visit.”

“Laura?” she sounded terrible. “I’m sorry! I didn’t think. You’re all sick, and I’ll just be another burden. You don’t need me there making things harder.” Now you were imposing. Useless, inept, and now budding in. Things couldn’t get worse.

***

“What do you mean you can’t find him?” Steve bellowed as Sharon came through the lab doors and was hit with the biometric scanners.

“Well, that’s one way to greet a girl,” she muttered, moving into the room.

“Agent Carter,” Tony quipped when FRIDAY flashed the all clear.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” FRIDAY said. “Garry is no longer within the walls nor grounds of the compound.”

Steve’s hand tightened around the edge of the computer consul. “Figure out when he left, where, and how! I want him back here _ASAP!”_ he barked.

“Steve. You should go to your girl. Explain some of this. We haven’t got all the answers, but it’s clear he’s been severely fucking with her,” Bucky said, squeezing Steve’s shoulder.

“Yeah…” he sighed. “What the hell do I tell her?”

“How about the fact that I ain’t been the one fucking stalking and flirting with her these past weeks!” Bucky groused.

“What?” Sharon gasped, looking over the screens.

“Garry, the punk shapeshifter’s been screwing with (Y/N) for weeks, but we don’t know why.” Tony clicked a few more keys when the phone near his hand buzzed. “Barton?”

“What… the _fuck_ is going on there! I’m gone for less than a handful of days, and everything goes to shit?! What the fuck happened?” Clint’s voice was hard and cold.

“How did you know?” Tony muttered.

“Because Laura’s on the phone with (Y/N), trying to talk her down and get her to pull the fuck over,” Clint growled. “I think she stole Steve’s bike.”

“Jesus…” Tony groaned.

“FRIDAY…” His heart beat a mile a minute in his chest when Steve called out to the AI. “Locate… locate… (Y/N).”

“(Y/N) is not in the building, Captain.”

Steve bent nearly double, pain washing through his chest. “She’s running…”

Bucky’s arm wrapped around his shoulders. “We’ll get her back, Steve. We’ll explain everything, clear this all up.”

“How he must have hurt her… to make her run. She never runs.” Lifting his hands, Steve scrubbed them over his face.

“Clint, tell her it’s a setup! Tell her Garry’s been changing faces!” Tony barked into the phone.

***

“No, no, (Y/N). We want you here,” Laura said, keeping her voice calm. “You just come to the farm. Stay as long as you need.”

You sobbed softly, “But you’re sick.”

“That’s alright, hun. Long as you don’t mind the possibility of catching our colds, you come ahead.”

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“Sweetie, could you do me a favour though? Could you pull over? Just till you calm down. I’d like you to get here in one piece.”

Throttling back on the bike, you slowed, pulling to the side of the road. She was right, Clint was right. Driving in this state was only going to cause you to hurt yourself. Sliding to a stop, you let the bike idle as you pulled off your helmet. Wiping at the tears and snot which had accumulated, you used your sleeve to clean off what you could of your face.

“(Y/N)? Are you still there!?” Laura’s voice rose in pitch.

Snuffling hard, you put your helmet back on. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m here, Laura. I pulled over.”

“You want to tell me what happened?” she asked gently.

A pain filled whimper left your lips as you sat on the idling bike, arms crossed and hunched over. You were still on a back road some fifty or so miles from the compound surrounded in trees.

“Bucky… Bucky tried to warn me… tried to tell me about Steve.”

“Tell you what about Steve?”

“That… when the time came,” you said softly, fighting a sob, “he’d… he’d… go back to _Sharon_!”

“What?” she gasped, breaking down in fits of coughing.

Waiting for her to stop, you looked up when the sound of the bike beneath you seemed to get louder. It wasn’t the bike, however, but the military helicopter headed your direction. It wasn’t one of Stark’s, or SHIELD’s. It wasn’t a design you were familiar with at all. “Laura,” you called as you put the bike in motion, something about its intercept course setting a warning screaming alive inside you.

Coughing continued on the other end of the line before she took a deep breath and gasped, “Yeah?”

“Hand Clint the phone.” You weren’t sure what they wanted, but you knew it wasn’t good when they fell in behind you on the road.

“Brat?”

“There’s a chopper on my tail, feathers, one that sure as shit ain’t as pretty as Starks.”

Clint dropped the phone to the counter and put it on speaker phone, doing the same with his spare. “What kind of chopper, brat?” he could hear Tony scramble, the phone crackling as he put it on speaker as well.

“Military of some kind. Advanced. It’s fucking _fast_.”

“Where you at, doll face?” Steve asked, concern in his voice.

Pain clenched around your heart, and you hesitated to reply until a missile exploded to your left. “Shit! Fifty miles southwest.”

“Was that a missile?” Bruce snarled, skin tingeing green again.

“Hold on, baby! We’re coming for you!” Steve hollered as everyone rushed for gear.

“You okay there, brat?” Clint called out, hand clenching on the kitchen island.

“For the moment, feathers!” you barked, dodging the next explosion.

“You hang in there! The team’s coming,” he assured you.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you knew they weren’t going to make. The next explosion took out the road directly in front of you, and you swerved to avoid the hole, caught the rear tire of Steve’s bike and laid it down.

Your jeans were of little good when you skidded over the asphalt, the road rash searing your left hip making you scream in agony. Tumbling down the embankment, you came to a sudden stop against a rock, a violent crack sounding when your arm connected with it, landing in a shallow stream.

Pain throbbed through your body, and you tried to stay still. “Clint…” you panted.

“Brat? Brat! Talk to me!”

“Crashed… Steve’s bike…” you gasped, starting to shake as the dirty water soaked through your clothes.

Steve paused in the mad scramble to rush back to the phone. “Baby? (Y/N) that doesn’t matter, darling. What about you?”

“Hurts… Steve…” you cried, gasping as dark spots filled your vision. “Steve…”

“I’m here, darling! You hang on. We’re coming for you!”

You turned your head enough to see the chopper had landed. A group of men were headed straight for you. “Too… late. Soldiers.”

Panic filled Steve’s face. “Tell me what you see, baby,” he coaxed gently.

Tony’s suit closed around him, and Steve just nodded. Stark could get there a hell of a lot faster than he could.

“Stark,” Bruce snarled, shedding his jacket and jerking at his shirt, his skin becoming far greener than before.

“Big guy wants out?” Tony asked.

“Yeah,” growled out in a voice far deeper than it should be.

The roof of Tony’s lab opened as the Iron Man dragged Bruce through it. He didn’t get very high before he was letting go, the large green body of the Hulk too heavy for him without the Hulk Buster armour.

Steve ignored all of it, focused on the phone before him. “C’mon, (Y/N). C’mon, baby, tell me what you see.”

“Black… masks,” you wheezed. “White… insignia.”

“What kind of insignia?”

“Wol…lf.”

“Baby?” the panic, the fear in his voice had you squeezing your eyes closed.

“Steve… I love…” you fought to make your voice work. “Love you… even if… even if… I wasn’t… enough!” you gasped.

“NO! No, sweetheart! No! It was Garry! All of it was Garry!” he cried, folding over the phone as tears skated down his cheeks.

“Saw you… Sharon…” you whimpered as the men closed in.

“Not me! It was Garry, this whole time! All of it! I love you, doll face, no one else!”

Tears poured down your face. “I’m sorry,” you gasped. “Steve.”

“Not your fault. Not your fault at all,” he dropped to his knees, holding the phone cradled in his hands. “Tony and Bruce are coming for you.”

“Steve… they’re… here…” you moaned as they crowded around you.

“You listen to me, baby. I _will_ find you! I will. I won’t stop until you’re back in my arms. You hear me, sweetheart?”

“I.. believe you…” you gasped when the first soldier reached for your helmet. “Steve…” They pulled it off and tossed it to the side.

“Get her on the chopper. Stark’s going to be on our ass.” The voice was that of Garry.

“You’re… dead man…” you wheezed, turning your head to see him.

He smiled at you. “I don’t think so… darling.” Reaching down, he jerked you up by the arm.

You screamed as hot whips of pain slammed through you, and the blackness finally won out.

***

The call cut out, and Steve slumped over. “I’ll find you, baby. I’ll find you.”

Sharon crouched before him, cupping his hands around the cell phone. “We’ll find her, Steve.”

“Yeah, pal.” Bucky placed his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “She’s a fighter, and she knows it wasn’t you.”

He nodded slowly, lifting his eyes to Sharon’s. “I told you, you should wear your engagement ring.”

She smiled. “Eric wishes the same thing, but if I had, your Garry never would have come at me.”

“Steve, I’m sorry,” Clint said, voice coming softly through the phone, Laura’s quiet crying in the background. “I’m on my way back. We’ll find her.” He hung up before Steve could say anything more.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Angst and swearing

## Chapter Nine

* * *

Steve sat on the bed in his girl’s room with his head in his hands. It had been five days, and she was still missing.

Tony and Bruce had made it to the place she’d crashed, finding his bike, beat up yet still functional, but it didn’t matter to him.

She was gone, disappeared without a trace.

None of Tony’s tricks had worked, none of his tech had worked, and nothing the Iron Man had thought up in the last few days had them any closer to finding her.

The Hulk had torn through the trees in anger, calming only after he’d destroyed half the forest, allowing Bruce to return and assist with sorting through the mess.

Now, after days of piecing it all together, they had a disturbing overview of what Garry had been doing. FRIDAY had been able to pull up partial conversations she’d had with Bucky, one she’d had with Sam, the one with Bruce. She’d replayed what had occurred in the lounge with Sharon, adding in the arrival of (Y/N) and her subsequent race for the garage.

But they didn’t know _why_.

Why had Garry done it? Why had he isolated her from all of them? Why had he made her feel so alone? What was the end game?

Sighing, Steve reached for her pillow and brought it to his chest so he could tuck his nose into it and inhale. It still smelled like her and had the tears welling in his eyes falling down his cheeks. He needed to find her, and soon before they hurt her or killed her.

She’d talked about a white insignia, a wolf, and they’d found it, them.

The Hounds of HYDRA had his girl.

Back in the day, Red Skull had created a unique faction he’d called the Hounds. They’d been merciless killers, brutal fighters, and when they went in to clean up a mess, they left no survivors.

He’d thought them gone, wiped out, disbanded after the war had ended, but he should have known better.

Where HYDRA was, the Hounds would follow.

What files Stark had showed a disturbing twist in the Hound’s purpose in the past twenty years. They still trained the worst of the worst, but they’d branched out into mutations and Inhumans, experimentation, and biological weapons.

They were dangerous, and they had (Y/N).

“Steve?” Wanda knocked softly on the door.

Wiping at his face, Steve kept his back to her. “Yes?”

She walked into the room, around the end of the bed and sat at his side. “We will find her, Steve.” Her fingers laced through his and held tight.

“I couldn’t see it…” he whispered. “She was falling apart, and I couldn’t see it.”

“Steve, do not be so hard on yourself. None of this is your fault. She loves you, so much. Hold on to that.”

He closed his eyes, the pain in his heart so strong it was debilitating. “What if they… hurt her?”

“Then when we get her back, you help her heal.”

“And if we don’t get her back?” he asked, finally giving voice to the dark, twisting fear inside him.

“We will. I have to believe that. You need to believe it too.”

Sighing, he nodded. “Thanks, Wanda.”

“Anytime, Cap,” she smiled.

“Captain Rogers. You’re needed in the lab,” FRIDAY announced. “Agent Hill has arrived.”

Sitting up straight, Steve put the pillow back and got to his feet. His moment of weakness was passed. It was time to be what he was.

Captain America didn’t quit, and he didn’t give up.

***

Consciousness slowly returned and with it came the constant beeping of a heart monitor. Opening your eyes, the blurry images came into focus. White ceiling, white walls, white bedding. _Hospital or med ward_. But it wasn’t your med ward, not the one at the compound and memory flooded back.

Running. Chase. Accident. _Garry_. That shit!

You weren’t sure how long you’d been there, hours, days, weeks. Shifting, a hiss of pain exploded from your throat. Days at most if your road rash was still that painful. Looking around, you found your arm in a cast and both wrists tied to the guard rails.

You felt lethargic, like everything was taking extra effort, extra energy to accomplish, and turned to see the bag of something hooked to a tube which ran down into the IV currently taped to the back of your hand.

A door you hadn't notice pushed inward. “Awake I see.”

“Garry,” you forced past your dry lips, tongue feeling like cotton.

“It’s Connor, actually,” he said, leaning against the side of your bed.

“As far as I’m concerned,” you swallowed thickly, “your name is shithead.”

“That’s one of the things I like about you, (Y/N). So very _feisty_ ,” he quipped.

“Why am I here?”

“All in good time,” he said as a man in a white lab coat walked in with a bag of green liquid.

It wouldn’t have been so concerning if it wasn’t fluorescing like a glow stick. “What’s that?” you asked, jerking against your bonds, hissing in pain when your wounds all screamed agony.

“Something to make you better,” Garry now Connor smiled as he stood to leave.

You glared at the doctor. “I don’t want that!”

“Well, we don’t always get what we want, now do we, sunshine,” he smiled. “This may sting a little.”

Unable to do anything but watch, the green liquid flowed down the tube and entered your hand. The tingles started slowly as the feel of the cool liquid followed the path of your veins up your arm. The stinging began when it reached your elbow, the burning when it hit your shoulder, and by the time it was flowing through your chest you were screaming.

Again, blessed darkness closed around you as you passed out.

***

“Maria.” Steve stalked through the doors to find Bucky, Tony, Sam, and Natasha standing around a seated Maria Hill. “Tell me why.”

“Why what, Steve?” she asked, evidently confused.

“Why you would _ever_ push through a candidate like Garry? Why seven newbies instead of the normal six? How in the _fuck_ did he make it through basic?” Steve bellowed.

She stared at him in shock. “I didn’t.”

Steve faltered. “What?”

“He didn’t make it,” she said. “He sucked ass at everything we asked of him, was selfish and cruel, and disinclined to take orders.”

“Son of a bitch,” Sam muttered. “Son of a bitch! He’s been playing us since the beginning!”

“He must have played Maria at some point and either talked someone into letting him join or played her and altered his file,” Natasha said.

Steve glanced at the redhead in the room, fighting not to flinch when her eyes swung his way. He’d seen the text (Y/N) had sent her. It wasn’t pretty, and Natasha had been pissed at him ever since.

“My question is, how did you not notice?” Tony asked Maria.

“I’ve been on leave. I was called back for this.” When they all simply looked at her, she shrugged.  “Hey, I’ve got _years_ of vacation time backlogged. I went to the beach.”

“The timing on all this is just too perfect,” Bucky said.

“FRIDAY’s been digging. All our phones had been cloned. He was using tech I knew nothing about, tracking all of us,” Tony admitted.

“And the Hounds?” Steve asked.

“Still searching.”

“Hounds?” Maria questioned.

“Of HYDRA. They took (Y/N),” answered Sam.

Her eyes widened. “Oh _hell_ no!” Digging in her pocket, Maria pulled out her phone and punched out a number. “Davis, Hill. I need the file,” she paused before cutting in, “Yes that file! Send it to Stark. No, it can’t wait! Do it now!”

***

Moe time passed, how much or little you weren’t sure. If you counted by doses of the green stuff and figured they were giving it to you once a day, it had been five days since you remembered waking the first time. You still didn’t know what it was, or why you were here. Garry - Connor - came back every time to gloat in your face, watch you scream yourself hoarse, and fall into blessed darkness.

How you longed to rip the restraints from your arms, but your body was too dulled by the drugs they kept pumping into you to allow you to think much beyond how much pain you were in.

But today was different.

They’d been carless for the first time, thinking you complacent. When the asshole doctor, who continued to call you _sunshine_ and was so getting a beating once you escaped, had changed your drip, you’d managed to catch the tube of your IV between your fingers and pinch it off long enough for your head to clear. With the room dark and your head a lot less foggy, you were able to concentrate long enough to look up at the ceiling.

“Heimdall,” you croaked. “Heimdall… help.” Strength failing, you lost the hold you had on the IV line. “Please!” you moaned as the door opened.

“You may as well give it a rest. No one is coming for you,” Garry snickered from the doorway.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing… yet,” he smirked.

“Enough games!” you demanded, hating how weak you sounded. “Tell me why I’m here? What do you want from me?”

He strode across the room and wrapped his hand around your throat. “You will speak with _respect_ to me, woman!”

Choking, you coughed when he released you, cursing the restraints which kept you from punching him in the face. “You’re so inclined to gloat, Garry. Why not just spit it the fuck out. Why am I here?”

He lowered the guardrail on your hospital bed, dragging painfully at your wrist as he sat at your side, a finger sliding down your forearm.

You refused to let yourself shudder beneath his touch.

“Poor little (Y/N). So normal. So plain. Everyone is better than you, faster than you, smarter than you, and stronger. If only you knew how special you are.”

Frowning, you started at him. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s all in your history.” Reaching out, he lightly brushed your cheek.

Jerking your head away you glared at him. “Touch me again, and I’ll kill you.”

He laughed. “Soon you will look at me and see only your most heartfelt love.”

The shock had your jaw dropping open. “Say what now?”

Caressing your cheek even as you leaned away, he smiled. “We will awaken your past, (Y/N). Once we do, you will understand.” Reaching across you, he pushed a few buttons on the monitor sending the cold rush of drugs up your arm. “Sleep. Soon you will wake to become your true self.”

You watched him leave, fear filling your heart as he walked away and darkness clouded your vision.

***

Steve’s fist exploded the third heavy bag, leaving a pile of sand and dust on the floor. Panting, heaving with the exertion, he shook his hand when the pain finally registered.

“Steve.”

He turned his head away from the door. “Don’t start, Bucky.”

“You’re not doing yourself or her any good by not sleeping and working yourself into exhaustion.” Bucky walked across the room and took Steve by the shoulder.

“It’s been ten days! Ten days, Bucky!” Steve jerked himself away only to stumble and fall to his knees.

“And killing yourself isn’t going to bring her back any faster! For fuck sake, pal, take a shower, have a nap, and come back with fresh eyes!”

Steve knew he was right, but the pain that tore through him every time he closed his eyes, and she wasn’t there made it impossible to sleep. “I can’t, Buck. I can’t sleep without her.” He looked down at his empty hands. “I had everything… and it slipped,” his breath hitched in his chest, “slipped through my fingers.” A harsh sob escaped him as Steve finally broke down.

Sinking to his knees, Bucky dragged Steve in and hugged him tightly. “Don't give up, Stevie. Don't give up on her or us.”

“I need her back, Buck. It's like I can't breathe!” It hurt as much as when he'd failed to save Bucky on the train. He closed his fists in Bucky’s shirt and held on.

Bucky clasped his hand at the back of Steve’s neck. “Easy, punk. We’ll find her. We will.”

“Captain?” FRIDAY’s voice called out quietly.

Gasping, Steve pulled back, heeling away the tears and clearing his throat. “Ye-yeah, FRIDAY?”

“We found something.”

Steve was up and running before Bucky had a chance to exhale the breath he’d been holding.

***

The next time you woke it was from a strange dream: a dream of warrior women, of battlefields and dying men. Of swords wrapped in serpents, and dying from a heart so broken, it had never healed.

The room seemed to waiver, your head full of noise. Doctor Dick was standing over you, his voice hollow and echoing in your ears. Garry looked too fucking pleased when he smiled at you and caressed your face.

You tried to bite him but were too sluggish.

“Now, now, (Y/N). That's rude.” He slapped you hard, sending new pain shooting through you.

“Fuck… you,” slurred from your lips. Your barely functioning mind noticed the doctor was wearing the same tie as earlier, so you hoped you hadn't lost another day.

A glance up showed an empty bag of super _whatever the fuck_ they were giving you. “What… want… me?” you tried again.

“Have any interesting dreams, sweetheart?” he asked, bending over the bed. Something in your face must have given you away for his filled with glee. “You have!”

A strange language poured from his lips as he loomed above you, but you only frowned. He huffed, face falling in disappointment. “Pity. Well, once we remove the memories of this life, your past ones will begin emerging.”

“Wh-what?” you croaked.

He leaned even closer until his face was inches from yours. Madness showed in his grey eyes. Madness… and lust. “It will be glorious when you return. When _she_ returns!” His eyes dropped to your lips.

“Try it… and I'll make… you wish… you hadn't.”

He grinned wicked and too bright when his hand wrapped around your throat, slowly closing off your airway. “Bitch. I'm going to put you in the machine and watch as they break you, as they pull every memory of everyone you loved from you. And when they're done, and I ask you about _Steve_ , and your answer is _Steve who_ , I will laugh my fucking ass off!”

Shoving off of you, he stalked out the door.

For the first time since you awoke in this shit hole, you looked forward to the drugs the doctor would give you to knock you out as tears of despair fell to wet your hair and, “Steve,” whispered from your lips.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing, Angst
> 
> Song: Broken Crown by Mumford and Sons

## Chapter Ten

* * *

Faye stood with her arms crossed, staring at all the screens, boards, files, documents, and information they had compiled in the past eleven days, her concentration complete until a flicker of movement at the corner of her eye broke it for the fifth time. Along with the break in her focus, came the break in her temper. “Captain!” she barked, turning on Steve.

“You got it?” he asked, hope shining in his eyes.

It was the hope, barely masking the fraying control and thread of despair which had her reining in her annoyance. “Captain, I need you to leave the room.”

“What?” he stiffened, face hardening.

“You’re continued need to pace, to move, is breaking my focus. I can’t do this with you in here. You want this done right? You want us to get in and get (Y/N) back? Then get the hell out of my workspace.” She pointed at the door.

He looked ready to argue for a moment before a sharp nod was given and he stalked away, door banging shut with his exit.

“You could have been a little nicer,” Grant chided softly, rising from his chair in the other corner.

Faye’s shoulders sagged. “I could have, but what good would that do? He’d just come back in twenty minutes, demanding answers I haven’t finished calculating yet. You’ve seen the size of that place!” She turned, waving her hand at the complex and the blueprints they’d managed to pull from Agent Hill’s files. “It’s _millions_ of calculations, of possibilities, and if I don’t…” her breath hitched, “if I don’t get it right… if I make a mistake…” she wiped furiously at the tear trickling down her face. “(Y/N) could wind up dead.”

Crossing the floor, Grant took Faye by the hand and led her back to her place from before. “You can do this, Faye,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around her.

He was so big, Faye felt indestructible when he was with her. The day they’d met at basic, he’d walked across the room, this mountain of a man, took her hand and said simply, “You and I are partners. Together we can do this.”

She’d been his ever since. Taking a deep breath, she shifted his palms to her waist and lifted her hands back to the screens before her as she started again. “I just wish _this_ wasn’t my first real mission. I don’t want to fail.”

Rubbing his nose in her hair, Grant murmured, “You’ve never failed.”

“There’s always a first time,” she whispered, fear tripping in her heart.

***

Steve paced the common area, his hand opening and closing, heart racing as he _prayed_. Prayed for guidance, for success, for help of any kind. He didn’t think he’d ever prayed so hard before. So, when the sky darkened, and the thunder cracked hard enough to shake the building, it shocked him into jumping.

The second shock came when Loki appeared out of nowhere and punched him square in the jaw, sending him reeling. “What the hell!”

“You snivelling human! What have you done?” Loki snarled, green whips of magic filling the air around him.

“Brother!” Thor bellowed, striding through the door. “It is not the Captain’s fault.”

“It is his fault! If he were truly hers, she never would have been taken from him!” Loki screamed.

“You’re here about (Y/N)?” Steve gasped, straightening up. “How did you…”

“Heimdall,” Thor said, eyes sharp as he turned them on Steve. “She called out to Heimdall. My question, Steven, is why didn’t you?”

“I…” He had no answer to give and sat gracelessly on the couch.

Thor moved forward to place his hand on Steve’s shoulder, knowing a man broken when he saw one. “It is alright, Captain. We shall find her. Heimdahl has his eyes on her even now, but the time grows short. Her… _essence_ is changing.”

“What does that mean?” asked Clint, coming through the door with the rest of the team.

Thor looked them over with hard eyes as Loki paced. “I understand Steven’s inability to think beyond his grief, but what of the rest of you? You should have sent word immediately.”

“What is it with you two and her?” Bucky asked. “I never really got it, but from the moment you met, you two have been… protective.”

Steve looked up, a frown pulling at his brows for Bucky was right. Thor and Loki, especially Loki, had always treated (Y/N) far more like a sister than simply another teammate.

“You mortals understand _nothing_!” Loki hissed, striding to stare out the windows at the down pouring rain.

“Then maybe you should explain it to us, reindeer games!” Tony barked.

“Everyone cool it!” Steve said. “None of this is helping.”

“Steve is correct,” Thor sighed, sitting on the couch and dropping Mjolnir to the ground. “We are as much to blame for what has happened. We should have explained who she was to us long ago.”

“We shouldn’t have to explain anything!” Loki snapped.

Thor sighed. “Brother, do shut up.”

“We know where she is! We should be tearing down walls, not catering to the people who lost her.”

“Loki! Do not make me muzzle you again!” Thor bellowed. “I love her just as much as you do, but going after her on your own is foolish. You will get her killed!”

Loki huffed but fell silent, his mood sullen.

Steve could focus only on one thing. “You know where she is? Exactly?”

“Yes, but it is not that simple. Heimdall spent the better part of yesterday seeing all he could in regards to her captivity. She is under heavy guard and deep within the facility. It will not be easy to reach her.”

“I could reach her,” Loki mumbled and was ignored.

Sitting across from him, Bruce asked, “What did you mean they are changing her _essence_?”

Thor scrubbed a hand across his mouth. “They are giving her something, I know not what it is, but it is changing her very nature, making her… different.”

“Different how?” Steve gasped, fear filling him.

“I don’t know.” Thor shook his head. “All Heimdall can see is the substance, the change in her…” he looked at Wanda.

“Aura, you mean her very spirit?” she asked, clearly shaken.

“Yes. And with that change comes great… pain.”

Steve jumped to his feet with Thor’s final word. “We need to go, right now! No more waiting!”

“Cap,” Natasha held up her hands. “You know we can’t do that, not yet.”

“She’s right, Cap,” Sam said, coming around to grasp Steve’s shoulder, shoving him, unresisting, back onto the couch.

He knew they were right, but the pain in his chest only intensified. “We need to get her out.”

“We will,” Wanda soothed.

“Back to how you two know her. Who is she to you?” Tony asked, fixing himself a drink.

“It is not so much who she is _today_ , but who she _was_.” Thor huffed when everyone looked at him blankly. “She is the reborn Valkyrie, Sváfa. The leader of them all.”

“What?” Steve gasped, eyes wide. “What? How?”

“She is reincarnated!” Loki growled, wandering closer. “She has always, and will always, be _reborn_.”

Thor motioned to his brother. “She and Loki were friends in her first life, as were she and I.”

“Does she… know?” Vision asked.

“She does not.”

“Why not?” Steve questioned.

Loki shrugged. “She had no memories of her past lives. None. Sváfa she may have been, but in this life, she is (Y/N). We were content to watch over her, see she was happy, make sure she found-”

“Loki!” Thor barked, cutting him off.

“Found… who?” Steve asked.

“It matters not,” Thor stated.

“Helgi, her true love,” Loki said before Thor could stop him.

Steve felt as if the Trickster had punched him in the face a second time. “I… don’t… understand.”

“That matter is something to be discussed _later_ , Loki.” Thunder crashed with Thor’s anger.

“If you say so, brother.” Loki turned back to the windows.

Before Steve could ask any more questions, Faye and Grant came through the door. Head down looking at her tablet; it took a moment before she looked up. Her eyes were dark, nearly entirely black as she took in the gathered faces. The frown she’d been sporting cleared, a smile bloomed, and Steve felt the pain in his chest lessen.

“Well, now that makes more sense,” she said, rapidly tapping in new data.

“You’ve got it?” Steve choked out, the lump in his throat so tight he could barely speak.

Her smile softened when she looked up at him. “I’ve got it.”

Rising slowly to his full height, he looked at the entire team, the newbies coming through the doorway to spread out around Faye. “Everyone, suit up.”

It was time to get his girl back.

****

Again you woke from a strange dream, this one of battlefields and men, flashing swords and the cries of the dying. Women in armour, beautiful and intimidating, rode sleek horses, pegasi with wide swept wings, but it was the warrior who fought alongside you who held your attention.

Big, tall, broad of shoulder, he swung a sword wrapped in serpents, the same one from your previous dream. Hair of spun gold was slick with sweat and blood, but still, it gleamed like the finest metal beneath the sun. 

He faced away from you, but you knew him, your heart beat for him. He was the one for whom your soul belonged.

_Helgi_. The name whispered through your mind as the images changed.

Bathed in firelight, the big warrior laboured above you, his body causing yours to sing with pleasure so profound you cried out, raking your nails down his spine. Words of love in a language you shouldn’t understand fell from his lips, his voice a croon, deep and sultry. 

Burying a hand in his hair, you pulled against the damp locks, wet still from the bath you’d shared. Pulled until his head lifted. Until you could catch a glimpse of his eyes, his face cast in shadow. They were blue, bright, burning blue and so filled with love your heart swelled.

As your end neared, he tucked his face back against your throat, the whiskers of his beard tickling your flesh, his hair falling like a curtain to block out the light, but you awoke when the door opened, body aching from something other than pain for the first time in days.

Doctor Dick walked in holding a syringe full of clear fluid.

“Now what?” you muttered, head lolling his direction, annoyance in your tone as you wanted nothing more than to return to the dream you’d been torn from. “What’s that?”

“Just something to keep you quiet,” he smiled, eyes bright.

Weren’t you always quiet? “Quiet for what?”

“Can’t have you fighting us and doing further damage to yourself when we put you in the machine,” he said, pushing down the plunger and sending the drug singing through your veins.

Jerking against the bindings, you fought futilely, eventually succumbing to the paralytic which slowed all your muscles to a sluggish crawl.

Leaning over, the doctor shone a light in both your eyes, then gripped you firmly by the chin. “Now, listen closely, sunshine. The drug slows _everything_ including your heart and breathing. If you try to fight, if you struggle at all, you could suffocate or put yourself into cardiac arrest. Once you’re situated in the chair, I’ll reverse the effects. Blink if you understand.”

It felt like it took forever to close and open your eyes, but you managed. You wanted to panic, time was growing short for the others to find you, but if what Doctor Dick said was correct you had no desire to stroke out.

He patted your cheek. “Good girl.” Turning, he walked out the door as two women walked in.

The next thirty minutes were mortifying as they stripped you, removed tubes and _things_ you’d rather not think about. They held you up and washed you down, scrubbing until your skin was red. Fresh bandages wrapped around your road rash. They'd even cleaned your hair.

Limp as a rag doll; you hung between them as they dressed you in a black sports bra and shorts, plopped you barefoot in a wheelchair and pushed you out the door.

You counted doors, turns, corridors as you went, the panic you were fighting down getting harder and harder to control. The need to run, fight, escape was so strong, it was leaving a metallic taste in your mouth.

When they wheeled you into the final room, a big steel space with the most terrifying apparatus you’d ever seen sitting in the middle of it, you felt your heart give a hard thump and stutter knowing what it was.

It was the chair. Bucky’s chair. The Winter Soldier’s chair.

Garry had said he was going to do it, but you hadn’t believed it until right this second.

With your panic growing, you felt you heart kick and pull in your chest as it worked to keep beating in its sluggish rhythm.

“She’s panicking! Get her strapped in!” Doctor Dick hollered striding forward.

They rushed you to the seat, dragging you from the wheelchair to thrust you into the machine. It was getting harder and harder to breathe all the time.

“Strap her down!” he cried, filling a syringe and injecting you with the counter agent.

The women who’d bathed and dressed you strapped your arms, legs, and head down tight, finishing as you gasped in a deep, full breath when the drugs wore off. “Don’t do this. Please, please don’t do this!” you begged, eyes filling as you stared at the women.

Neither of them looked at you, only nodded to the doctor and walked away to ready the machines.

A group of men walked in, with them came _Garry_.

He swaggered his way toward you, kitted out in full tactical gear. When you looked him over, hope blooming, he smirked and laughed. “Just a precaution, my pretty one. No one is coming for you. No one knows where you are. Soon you will be screaming your agony, and then you will be _mine_!” His hand closed over your jaw, keeping your mouth shut.

Groaning, you forced your lips to work. “You never… told me… why?”

“And I won’t. Why should I? The you that is (Y/N) won’t be around much longer as it is. Why waste my breath?”

His hand came free, and you screamed, “Garry you fucking bastar-”

He shoved a ball gag in your mouth. “None of that now.”

As he walked back toward the other men, you heaved breath in and out your nose. Tears had begun to leak from the corners of your eyes, and saliva the corners of your mouth.

This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. It had to be a bad dream.

There was no way Steve wouldn’t come for you! He’d promised, and Captain America _never_ broke his word.

As the machine started to warm up and the chair drifted back, your panting intensified. This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be how it all ended for you. As your eyes met the ceiling and the metal touched down against your skull, you screamed a muffled, “ _Steve_!”

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing, violence, Norse language which may or may not be correct

## Chapter Eleven

* * *

The specially equipped plane was minutes out, Natasha and Clint at the controls while Faye, with Grant at her side, stood before the Command center. Everyone was geared up and ready, listening as she went through the plan a final time. She held everyone’s focus, everyone’s attention except Steve’s.

He knew his job. It was simple. He was going for his girl, and no one could tell him different. When Faye finished her recitation, he turned to Bucky, and with a short jerk of his head, the two of them made their way to a quiet, private space.

“Buck…” Steve started and hesitated, hating what he was about to ask.

“I know, Stevie.” Smoky blue-grey eyes held his unyielding.

“I hate to ask this,” he sighed, looking away. Even the thought of it made Steve’s stomach turn.

Reaching out, Bucky gripped Steve’s shoulder tightly. “Steve, I’ve got your back in this. You don’t gotta ask. I’m with you til the end of the line, pal.”

Lifting his eyes to Bucky’s, Steve watched the blue slowly brighten. “Winter?”

“Yeah, man. I’ve got this.” The Winter Soldier looked back at him.

It was a part of Bucky Steve knew he had a hard time reconciling with. He was brutal, cold and hard, and that wasn’t Bucky. Not the Bucky he knew. Not his best friend. But he needed the Soldier in this. He needed the no mercy fighter. He wasn’t coming out of there without (Y/N).

“Thank you.” Deflating slightly, Steve leaned his shoulder against the wall.

“We’re going to get her back, Steve,” Bucky stated firmly.

Nodding, Steve glanced toward Thor and Loki. “Buck…”

“The horned wonder got under your skin, didn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky smacked him in the back of the head. “Fuck him and his _true love_ bullshit. You’re her true love. I should fucking know, watching her make cow eyes at you this last year, and now the two of you, shit, pal. You were made for each other.”

“But what if we weren’t? What if she and I…” he couldn’t even voice the concern and took another smack to the head, this one harder than the last.

“Don’t be stupid. You two look at each other and the world fades away. She’s yours, dumbass, no matter what that joker says,” he snorted, his opinion on the matter clear in his tone. “Stop being a fat head and focus on getting her back.”

A smirk curled his lips as Steve nodded. “Where would I be without you, Buck?”

“I dunno, but I bet you’d be doing something stupid.”

“Hey! You took all the stupid with you back in the day. There’s none left for me, jerk.”

“Punk! Who let a German scientist experiment on him?”  

Before he could reply, or the conversation degenerated into their regular brand of play fighting, Natasha called back, “Two minutes!”

“Thor, you’re up,” Faye nodded to the God of Thunder.

Steve watched Thor focus his attention on the storm raging around them. Faye had been brilliant in her planning, using the storm pounding down on the compound, having Thor send it on toward their destination, using it as cover to get close to the facility (Y/N) was being held in. The God of Thunder had built it big, letting it flow south like a natural storm and not a god created, rage-filled one, keeping a pocket in the middle of calm air for the jet.

Thor placed his hand against a window, and thunder rolled, breaking and crashing around them. Lightning flashed, slamming into the ground as Natasha set the jet down in a clearing not far from the compound. The dark, violent storm closed in, the heavy rain shielding them from sight.

“Loki?” Faye looked to the God of Mischief. “You’re next.”

“About bloody time.” Loki lifted his chin, glaring down his nose at Steve. “ _I_ will find (Y/N) and bring her to you.”

“Thank you.” Steve nodded.

“I’m not doing it for _you_ ,” he growled, eyes glowing green as his magic wrapped around him and he disappeared.

“Everyone else has their assignments,” Faye said, looking to Steve.

“Let’s make some noise.” Pulling his shield from his back, Steve headed for the door. He stopped when he came to Faye who would be staying in the jet running the show from the Command center with Grant and Maria as back up. Her heart was beating so hard, Steve could hear it.

Placing his hand on her shoulder, he looked down at the small woman who fidgeted nervously. “Faye, trust yourself. I do, or I would never have asked this of you.”

Her eyes snapped up to his, shock filling them. “You trust me?” she whispered.

“Shouldn’t I?”

She straightened, the nerves falling from her as her face smoothed into lines of confidence and the darkness which bespoke her powers filled her eyes. “Yes, you can trust me. I can do this, Cap.”

“Good.” Patting her shoulder, he headed for the rest of the team standing at the door.

Thor would be working with the brother’s, Skippy and Marcus, the wind and water elementals complementing the Thunder God’s powers. Susan and Maggie were running with Clint, Nat, and Sam - grounded thanks to the storm - doing what they could to get into the facilities computers and gather all the Intel they could. It might be a rescue mission, but the more information they had about what the Hounds were up to, the better. Besides, they didn’t know what this mystery substance was they’d been giving (Y/N). If they could get into the files, it would make discovering what was done to his girl easier.

Bruce and Tony were going to do what damage they could - which would be excessive - to the portion of the facility farthest from where they were holding (Y/N), while he and Bucky would be going in as close to her location as possible.

He looked to those gathered and waiting, Bruce already undoing the buttons on his shirt, skin tingeing green. Each face, those familiar and those new, were filled with determination. “I believe in each and every one of you. Let’s get this done.” Taking his helmet from Bucky, he put it on and punched the button for the ramp. “And if you find Garry,” he glanced again at Bruce when the Hulk within growled, “he’s mine!” Steve snarled.

***

Connor, the once Garry, standing aside with the rest of the top Hounds, watched smugly as the machine warmed and drifted back. It would only be minutes more and everything he’d worked for his entire life, everything his family had been working for these past generations, would finally come to fruition.

The reincarnation of Sváfa was within his grasp, her body prepped and waiting for the return of her past self, the memories of her Valkyrie days, and the power which would return when Sváfa did.

And he would be waiting. He wasn’t Helgi, but he was descended from the same family tree, the same family of the Norwegian king Hjörvarðr and Sigrlinn, though through the line of a daughter, not Helgi, the son. It should be enough to convince the newly reborn Sváfa he was her true love, her Helgi, especially with the drugs they’d been injecting her with. She would be so far under his spell, so completely his if they ever came across the reincarnated Helgi, she wouldn’t bat an eye.

With the return of her memories and the loss of her current self, Connor would have access to all that Valkyrie power. The strength, speed, ferocity, it would be his to command as would the rest of her sisters be when she reclaimed her title as Leader of the Valkyrjur. A legion of Valkyries would be at his disposal, and no one would stand against the Hounds with their might behind him.

Her muffled scream for _Steve_ made him roll his eyes. Steve would not be coming. No one was coming. They had been far too careful. They’d left no trail for Stark or any of the Avengers to follow.

Thunder crashed, rattling through the building. “We going to be good if the power goes out?” he asked the man running the controls for the machine.

“Has its own power source,” the man muttered. “Storms been building all day. We were prepared for it.”

The General to his opposite side muttered, “Least it didn’t just appear. Don’t need Thor showing up.”

Connor snorted. “Not likely-” he was cut off by the snapping crackle of electricity when the machine started and (Y/N) screamed.

***

The pain was excruciating.

White hot lightning was tearing through your skull, ripping, shredding, pulling little pieces of your life away a knife slice at a time. You screamed and screamed, and screamed, tears pouring down your face. Your spine arched away from the chair, the only part of you not tied to the apparatus, bending with force to the point you thought it might snap.

Clenching your hands around the ends of the armrests, you were unaware of the cast crumbling beneath your palm. Every muscle in your body strained with effort. Dark spots filled your vision as you felt like your head was going to explode.

When the darkness went from spots to blobs to filling your vision, you just thought it was the pain causing you to pass out. Right up until the pain ended as abruptly as it had begun.

A warmth wrapped around your mind and you drifted within it as a bright light bloomed. A woman, beautiful and devastating in her glory walked toward you out of the light. The blonde of her hair was nearly white, her eyes a deep blue. Her headdress of wings flared out above her ears. A breastplate of old gold showed off her svelte figure, garbed in a flowing white gown which fell to mid-thigh. Heavy leather sandals encased her feet and legs, and she walked with a deadly kind of grace toward you. But it was the smile, big and wide and kind upon her lips that put you at ease.

“Hello, (Y/N),” she said softly.

“Who are you?” you asked, staring in awe.

She smiled and held out her hand. “You know.”

Without hesitation you took her hand, her first two fingers covered in long rings like armour, pointed talons for nails, gleaming in polished silver. “I’ve been dreaming of your life.”

Her long braids danced as she laughed quietly and shook her head. “You’ve been dreaming _our_ life.”

“What?” you gasped in disbelief.

Her hand tightened around yours as she whispered, “Remember.”

Memories flooded through you. Laughing and playing with your sisters. Choosing your steed. Learning to fight. Patrolling and collecting the fallen for Valhalla. The day you met _him_ , the man you’d come to love with your entire heart and soul, the one you’d named, “Helgi.”

She nodded, her smile spreading. “And we were Sváfa in that life, our first life. The life in which Helgi was taken from us far too soon.”

“Holy shit,” you whispered, eyes widening. “I’m a Valkyrie!”

Sváfa laughed, throwing her head back and letting loose right from her belly. It was so infectious; you couldn’t help but join in.

Once her giggles slowed, she squeezed your fingers and lightly touched your cheek. “You are a Valkyrie, have always been a Valkyrie. It is what has brought you to this point. It is why you were taken from them, your team and family.”

“But… I don’t understand. For what purpose?”

“They seek to take _your_ life away to return me to this world. They wish to bridle us, place a bit in our mouth and tame what can never be tamed.” Anger filled her eyes, set them blazing as power crackled around you. “This cannot be. I will not allow it.”

“But... the machine…”

“You are still in it. Your body feels the pain, but for the moment I have shielded your mind. You cannot lose who you are in this life for if you do, they win. I dislike losing,” she huffed.

It sounded so much like something you would have said you snickered. “Me either.”

Sváfa’s face sobered, features setting into lines of determination. “They know not what they do here, the forces they meddle with. This was to be a quiet life for us.”

You snorted softly. “This is quiet?”

A smirk twitched her lips. “No Valkyrie would shirk from a battle. It does not surprise me to see our chosen path in this life has led you to fight for that which you believe in, but it is a quiet life compared to clearing the fields and serving in the halls of Valhalla.”

“Really?”

“You’ll remember soon enough,” she snorted, an echo of your previous one. Again she turned her attention to you, and you could feel the snap and crackle of power around you. Her free hand found your shoulder, gripped it tightly. “The time grows short. When I leave you, you will retain it all. Every memory of mine, Sigrún our second life, Kára our third, down through the ages until today. With it comes the return of our Valkyrie nature. The strength, power, instincts… but there will have to be a price paid. They have forced this connection and used… _unnatural_ ways to bring it about.”

“That green crap?”

Sváfa nodded.

“What price?”

“I do not yet know,” she whispered, a touch of fear in her voice.

You stood in silence for a moment, absorbing everything, contemplating the coming change in your life before the niggling thought which had been itching at you since the start of this conversation would no longer be held back. “Helgi… is he… did he… who?”

Sváfa shifted her hand to your chin, tilting your face up. “You will know him on sight. We always do.” Her head lifted, a wolf on the hunt as the vibrancy of her eyes darkened. “It is time, (Y/N).” She leaned forward, her forehead coming to rest against yours.

Memories flooded you. Every life, every battle, every moment filled your head so full it ached and felt about to burst. Then your muscles began to burn; your bones ached, your joints snapped and popped. Groaning, you grabbed on to Sváfa, nails biting into her forearms as she held you up by your elbows.

She squeezed your arms tightly. “You will be weak once you return to your body. Good hunting, _skjaldmær._ ”

_Shieldmaiden._

The blackness faded as she did and pain rushed back in.

Something in your throat tore with the power of your scream. It felt like days, weeks, _years_ before the whips of electricity coursing through your veins, searing off your nerve endings, trying to turn your mind to ash, finally ended.

Shaking, covered in sweat and tears, you heaved for breath, throat screaming pain with each exhalation. Blinking at the ceiling, you watched the lights flicker, and half of them die when an explosion rocked the building.

A roar, familiar and deafening pierced the air, making it through the thick walls to send fear tripping the hearts of those around you.

_Well, that’s new._ You’d never been able to hear so well before. Memories rose up, crashed through your already painful brain, made you whimper and slam your eyes closed against the new pain. Everything from your neck up throbbed violently, and when the chair started to tip forward, you fought down a violent wave of nausea.

The gag in your mouth disappeared as a calloused hand cupped your cheek. Eyes fluttering open, you blinked to clear the double vision. Crouched between your spread knees, hand touching your face, was the person you despised more than any other in the entire world.

His image wavered, shimmered, and you realized you could see right through his glamour. Blonde and blue of eye, Garry still appeared dark and grey to you. His powers now useless against your Valkyrie ones, and it made you smile.

“Sváfa?” he said quietly as the building shook from the Hulk’s blows and Tony’s missiles. “ _Min elskede_?”

_My beloved._ So that was his game, the reason behind the glamour suddenly becoming clear. You made to lift your hand only to find it still tied down. “ _Hva er dette_?” you asked, _What is this_ , voice hoarse, playing along, knowing your team was coming.

“ _Kjenner du meg, kjære_?”

_Do you know me, darling?_ You bit your tongue to keep from spitting on him. “ _Selvfølgelig gjør jegdet_ , Helgi.” _Of course, I do, Helgi._ As soon as he released you, you were so going to punch that asshole in the face!

“Do you know this language, _min elskede_?” he asked, a smile spreading, excitement growing in the grey depths of his eyes.

“I… I think… yes. What… what happened, Helgi? Where am I? What is this?” You struggled against the chair, needing him to believe you.

“Easy. Easy, Sváfa, darling. Here.” He released the binding around your head, and it fell forward on your neck, a very real groan of pain falling from your lips. “Do you hear the battle, Sváfa?”

“Yes.” He was falling for it, and victory sang in your veins.

“Those people, the ones attacking us, hurt you. They took you away from me. Erased your memory of our time together in this life. I had to force you back to your first life, make you remember. I need you, Sváfa. I need you to fight at my side again.”

You looked past him to the scramble taking place as the other men ran to prepare for the onslaught, and the doctor approached you with another syringe. “Free me, Helgi! Free me, and I will win this battle for you. For _us_!”

Triumph filled his eyes, and he tore the bindings from your right arm, the cast cracked and in places completely crumbling to dust. “Yes! Yes, Sváfa! Call them, your sisters! End the Avengers and their reign of terror in this world!”

Lifting your hand, pieces of plaster falling away, you touched his cheek. It stalled his hands as he made to release your other arm, and you smiled. “I bet you didn't know I could lie as well as you. You always were a stupid son of a bitch.” Balling up your fist, you punched him with all the strength you had, sending him flying across the floor and pain rippling through your broken arm. “Oh!” you gasped, shocked at the power behind the blow. “That’s going to take some getting used to.” Reaching for the buckles on your left, you struggled to get free.

A half dozen weapons cocked, dots of red appearing on your chest, and you froze.

“Take your hand away!” Garry, Connor, whatever the fuck his name was, snarled at you holding his cheek.

You lifted it slowly into the air. “You’re not going to shoot me, Garry. All that work gone to waste? I don’t think so.” A sudden awareness washed over you, a familiar, yet foreign feeling which made you smile when a new memory rose up. “Besides, you have _much_ bigger problems than little old me.”

Garry sneered at you and motioned to the doctor. “Knock the bitch out, then get her on a transport until we can figure out what to do with her.” Getting to his feet, he stormed out of the room, shouting orders as he went.

Doctor Dick stalked forward while a half dozen soldiers kept their guns trained on you.

“I don’t think you want to do that, _doc_ ,” you said as he closed in on the side of you still tied down.

“You think you can stop me, sunshine?” he scoffed, pulling the cap off the syringe.

“Oh, I can’t stop you,” you smiled, and he shivered, nearly stepped back, “but _he_ can.” You nodded toward Loki pulling his knives from the body of the last of the soldiers, letting the man drop at his feet. “ _Hei, ugagn_ ,” you called out and watched magic filled eyes widen in surprise.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Swearing, violence
> 
> Song: One Last Breath by Creed

## Chapter Twelve

* * *

“Hello, mischief? _This_ is how you greet me after all this time?” Loki quipped, prowling toward you. He flicked his wrist, and the straps across your thighs and the ones around your arm tore free.

Pushing to your feet, you wobbled a little as you stood there, shooting pain slamming through your skull making you groan and reach for your head.

Loki was instantly at your side, arm wrapping your waist and hand cupping your nape. “Sváfa? What is it?” Eyes, green and glowing, peered worriedly down at you.

“Had my brain scrambled. Still hurts.” You smiled weakly, aching all over. “I may remember everything, but I’m still me, Loki.”

He tilted his head, a regal motion, one you’d teased him for even in this life. His eyes slowly hardened and drifted up to glare at the man edging away. “Is _he_ the one who hurt you, darling?” Loki glared at the doctor.

Straightening up, you pushed against his chest, turning on Doctor Dick with murder in your eyes. “Yeah, that would be my _doctor_.”

“Now, sunshine, I was just doing my-” his words cut off when your fist connected with his face. He flew across the room and slammed against the wall, dropping like a fly or a bug which had connected with a windshield with a satisfying _smack_.

“Whoa,” you muttered, looking at your fist. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

“I see you’ve regained your Valkyrie abilities,” Loki chuckled, “But how did you maintain your current self in there?” Throwing his hand out, he sent a burst of green magic at the chair, turning it into a crumpled mass of metal.

“Sváfa shielded me.” Turning back to Loki, a second stab of pain through your skull had you dropping to your knees and grabbing for your head. “Ah!”

“(Y/N)!” Loki was lifting you into his arms before you’d fully landed. “We must find your soldier. You need to be seen to.”

“I’m okay, _ugagn_ , just weak. How long have I been gone?” you asked, rubbing your temple, ignoring the throbbing of your arm.

“Eleven days, _lillesøster_ ,” he said, hands tightening around you.

_Little sister._ The endearment brought tears to your eyes. “Is it weird that I missed you?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his neck. His scent of ice and snow brought so many memories rushing back from a life you were only beginning to remember.

He paused in his quick march down the hallway to look at you. His eyes had returned to blue, still full of mischief but there was a tenderness there you now realized had always been. He’d always been fond of you, but now you knew why. He had known all along, recognized you from the beginning. “Not at all, darling. I have also missed you. We had so much _fun_ together!”

You snorted, a memory popping up. “Like when you convinced me tying three of Sleipnir legs together would be a _grand_ idea right before Odin was set to go on a hunt?”

He chuckled, turning his nose into your hair. “That was entertaining.”

“I cleaned Sleipnir’s stall for _three_ months because of you,” you huffed as he started to walk again.

“And I polished armour until my arms fell off,” he said, his grin a touch wicked. “It was worth it.”

A loud boom erupted, shaking the walls and sending dust falling from the ceilings. Another huge roar pierced the air, thunder rolled, explosions went off, and you jumped in Loki’s hold.

“Fucking hell! Are they _trying_ to destroy the place?” you grumbled, wiping dust from Loki’s cheek.

“A good portion, yes. It is fortunate you thought to call out for Heimdahl.” His face hardened into a mask, anger and distaste at the forefront of his displeasure.

“You’re angry at Steve, aren’t you?”

“Should I not be? He allowed you to be taken. Allowed you to be injured. He is responsible for the state I found you in.” Each step seemed to cool the air around you until frost patterned the walls.

“He is not! I was the one duped. I ran. I was the idiot, not Steve. If anyone is to blame, it’s me and that asshole Garry.” His name left a sour taste in your mouth.

“They told me, but _Steve_ should have noticed you were unhappy. It is his duty as your-”

You closed your hand over Loki’s mouth. “Stop. What Steve and I have is none of your business.” Eyes of blue twinkled before he licked your palm making you squeal and wipe it on his shoulder. “Gross!”

He was snickering when he suddenly darted to the side as rushing feet, many and booted, could be heard pounding down the corridor toward the two of you.

Setting you on your feet, he held you steady when you pressed your hand to the wall to stay upright, huddling with him in a narrow doorway. “Can you put up an illusion?”

“I could, but there are many. It would be easier to draw them away. Can you continue on your own? Your Captain is that way.” He motioned the direction you’d been heading.

Sliding your fingers beneath his overcoat, you pulled a long-bladed dagger from the small of his back. “I’ll be fine, _ugagn_. You be safe.”

“Always, _lillesøster_. I am no longer an untrained youth.” The green of his magic was already returning to his eyes as he bent down and kissed your cheek.

“Yet you’re still _such_ a child,” you quipped, smirking up at him.

“Cheeky.” He tapped your nose and stepped into view of the men coming toward you. “A wolf insignia? Really? Why don’t I show you a _wolf_ ,” he snarled, wisps of green mist wrapping around him as his shape changed.

Memories of other times he’d done so swelled in your aching head, overlaying the current scene with images still too muddled to make sense of. Rubbing your temple, you watched in awe as he finished his change and stood before you, an enormous wolf, shaggy and grey with enormous teeth.

“Run!” he growled at the men, snapping his jaws. They fired wildly as he chased them back the way they’d come, claws scrabbling on the tile floor.

“He enjoys that way too much,” you snickered. Pressing off the wall, you weaved your way down the corridor, legs shaky. Sváfa had said you’d be weak after the transference, add in nearly two weeks of little to no movement, and little to no food, and the headache pounding away, it wasn’t surprising a slow wobble was about the extent of your abilities.

But Steve was down here somewhere. You just needed to find him.

***

Steve went shield first through the exterior door. It may have been reinforced steel, but at a dead run, and with the weight of both him and Bucky behind it, the door didn’t stand a chance. It blew in like a bomb had gone off, and he chucked his shield after it, sending it ricocheting off the walls and knocking out four men. A shot rang out beside him, the fifth dropping thanks to Bucky’s bullet.

He nodded to the dark haired man at his side. “Faye, we’re in.”

“Good. According to Thor, they were holding her in the med wing, but if my calculations are correct, and if Loki follows direction, you should be able to follow that corridor straight for three intersections. Take a left, go two more, take a right, and you should be there.”

“Hostiles?” Bucky growled.

“Two intersections in on the right. More when you make the left. Plus the ones you’ll find holding (Y/N).”

Bucky was already stalking forward, palming a grenade. Pulling Steve’s shield from the wall, he tossed it back at him. “Let’s go.”

Snagging his shield out of the air, Steve jogged after Bucky in time to watch the man toss the grenade, bouncing it off the wall two corridors down and to the right.

Shouting ensued before the bomb went off, reducing the yelling to silence.

Steve didn’t bother to look at the devastation, well aware of what Buck’s weapons could do as he stalked after the Winter Soldier. The lights flickered overhead, blinking off when one of Stark’s missiles took out the power grid. Within seconds the emergency lights came on, bathing everything in a wash of red light which pulsed slowly on and off.

“Seems Stark’s enjoying himself,” Bucky smirked, glancing at Steve. A roar rattled the ceiling tiles, sending dust down over them. “Hulk, too. It’s been a while since Bruce let loose.”

A smile curled the corner of Steve’s mouth before falling away. “He took it hard, what Garry did to (Y/N). We all did.”

“I can’t believe she believed all that shit,” Bucky scoffed. “Gonna tell her so, too, when we find her.”

Pulling the pistol from his hip, Steve fought not to flinch at Buck’s words. “Think I may have played into her fears. Not on purpose!” he said when Bucky glared at him. “She asked me a question a few days before she was taken. I thought it was foolish, but I never really gave her an answer.” He’d thought a lot about what had led up to her running, wondering the same thing as Buck. “She’s so damn self-assured, I never even thought… I should have said…”

“Fuck, what?” Bucky hissed, slowing as they approached the next intersecting corridor and their first turn.

Sighing, Steve readied himself to go low as Buck brought his rifle to his shoulder. Prepared as they were, trusting Faye’s predictions, they moved like a well-oiled machine, Steve bringing his shield up and firing, using it to deflect the return fire for both himself and Buck, while Bucky worked to take out the dozen men waiting for them.

It was a short-lived battle.

Rising from his crouch, he flinched when Bucky punched him in the arm. “What!?”

“What did you do, you little punk?”

The cold hard eyes of the Winter Soldier glared at him, and Steve gave a semi-helpless shrug. “I didn’t think-”

“Clearly!” Bucky snorted, stalking away.

“Hey! It was a dumb question! Like I’d ever leave her for Sharon,” he huffed, stomping after the metal-armed man.

“Let me guess,” Bucky sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, “You didn’t tell her no?”

“I thought…” his shoulders slumped, “showing her was better.”

“Jeez, pal!”

“I know, I know! I was an idiot.” He’d had a hand in pushing her away, even if he hadn’t realized it at the time. And now, with what Loki had hinted at, he could get her back only to lose her anyway.

Rounding the second corner, they headed for the set of double doors at the end of the hall. Steve broke into a jog; he couldn’t help himself. If Faye were right, she’d be right there, behind those doors, waiting for him to find.

So far, Faye hadn’t been wrong.

***

You stumbled forward, cursing Stark and his need to blow up all things when the power had gone out. The red lights weren’t helping the headache you were working at ignoring, nor was smacking your shin when you rounded a corner in the dark to walk into a steel cart.

Leaning against the wall, you took deep breaths, fighting the continued waves of nausea knowing throwing up nothing, which was the likeliest scenario, would only cause more pain to whip through your skull. As it was, it felt like the Hulk was pounding a set of bongos to a beat only he could maintain. Pressing the heels of your hands to your temples, you wished with all your heart for the biggest bottle of Aspirin you could get your hands on.

When the wave of pain and sickness finally settled, you started down the corridor again, the flashing red lights making it that much harder. You had no idea where in the building you were. The hallways they’d wheeled you down earlier in the complete opposite direction. Every so often you could faintly hear howling and the sounds of wicked laughter, muted as if coming through many layers of walls.

Loki was, apparently, still enjoying himself.

That was fine. You didn’t want him there when you found Steve. The God of Mischief and America’s Greatest Hero were not going to be on the best of terms for a while, probably. Loki had always been overprotective, a little possessive, and jealous of Helgi when you’d fallen for him in your first life. He’d gotten over it eventually, but it had taken time.

The sound of boots on tile had your head whipping up, a bad move when it hurt so much. Darting forward, you made for the doors at the end of the hall, gripping Loki’s dagger tightly, the blade hidden against your forearm.

“There she is!”

Cursing softly, you ran, slamming through the doors and into a big open room. There was nothing to hide behind and nowhere you could safely run to escape the three men coming through behind you.

Spinning around, you faced them and smiled with far more bravado than you were feeling. “Now, boys. Do you _really_ want to do this?” you asked, backing up as they spread out, trying to cage you in. All three looked identical in their tactical gear. Black on black, helmets and goggles, white wolf insignia’s over their hearts.

“Just be a good girl and come with us,” the first said, slinging his rifle to his back. Holding up his hands, he approached you slowly, a smirk working across what you could see of his face. “Wouldn’t want to hurt you more than necessary, ain’t that right boys?”

A song was singing in your veins, old and joyous, a forgotten portion of your nature you relished feeling return. A lust for battle sang, heightening your senses and causing the headache to retreat under the rush of adrenaline. “You boys are in for some surprise,” you snickered.

As the first man closed in, you allowed Loki’s hidden dagger to drop into your palm.

“She’s got a-” was as far as the second soldier got.

You brought the dagger to bear, slicing a gash in soldier one’s thigh. A flip had you changing hands, slamming it down through his shoulder. Jerking it out, blood spraying across your face, you kicked him hard in the chest, sending him sailing back out the doors they’d recently come through.

“What the fuck?” muttered the third soldier.

You grinned, shrugging your shoulders. “Who knew, right?”

Both of them brought their weapons up, training them on you. “Drop the knife!”

Pouting, you shook your head. “But we were just getting started.”

“Drop it, or we drop you!”

You let go of the dagger. It looked like you were going to have to do things the hard way.

“Get on your knees!”

“Make me!” you snarled, baring your teeth. When two shots rang out, you almost thought they’d shot you before their bodies were falling to the floor.

Whipping around, you stared, overcome with emotion for standing across the room, just lowering his pistol was, “Steve!”

“(Y/N)!”

With tears welling, you stumbled forward but only made three steps toward each other when the door at your back opened.

Again you spun to face the new threat. It came as quite a shock when the new threat falling to their knees a few paces away happened to be wearing your face.

“Steve! Don’t! She’s an imposter!” Gaping at him, the shimmer of his glamour falling away beneath your focused attention, you glared at Garry on the floor and glanced to Steve and Bucky.

Steve’s eyes darted from yours to the image of you on the floor and back, horror washing over his features as you realized he couldn't tell the two of you apart. The look of terror on Steve’s face was mirrored by Bucky’s; both holding half raised weapons.

A very strange looking Garry hauled himself slowly back to his feet as you stood, dumbfounded, unable to believe he could sink so low. “Steve, I’m me! That’s Garry!” you said, pointing at the copy of yourself.

“Don’t believe him! That’s Garry!”

“You son of a bitch! I’m so going to beat you to a pulp!” you snarled.

“Not if I get my hands on you first! Steve,” he cried turning toward the two stunned Avengers. “I swear it’s me! What’s the word, Cap, that’s the thing we say, and Bucky, you like to tap the end of my nose.”

“All things you’ve seen them do, _Garry_!” you bellowed, stepping toward him only to hear Steve’s pistol cock.

“Stay where you are!” he barked, gun coming up.

“Stevie…” you whispered. “It’s me, Cap I swear it.”

“This is fucking unreal,” Bucky muttered. “We could just shoot both. Garry always loses his glamour.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Barnes?” you screeched. “I crashed Steve’s bike, have road rash from hell, broke my arm, got injected with weird ass green glowing goop for two weeks, survived having my brain scrambled in that godforsaken chair, and now you want to _shoot me_!”

“There!” Garry crowed, pointing at you. “That’s how you know she’s the imposter! No one would survive the chair! She’d be wiped. I’m the real me, Steve! I promise!”

Bucky’s weapon also swung your way, his face set in the cold hard lines of the Winter Soldier.

“Bucky… no.”

“She’s right. No one survives the chair.” Bucky’s eyes narrowed, the gun coming all the way up.

Garry’s face beneath the glamour was nearly triumphant as he moved to face the boys. When he turned was when you saw it, the shine of the silver handle, the gun tucked at his low back.

“I won’t let you hurt them,” you said to Garry, his gaze coming back to you.

“It’s you who will hurt them,” he sneered, hand twitching, slowly creeping behind his back.

“No, not this time. Steve,” you said softly, dropping your hands to your sides. “I love you with all my heart, but this?” Turning your head, you looked from his gun to Bucky’s; both pointed directly at you. “I don’t _wike_ it.”

“Baby,” Steve whispered, gun lowering.

“You bitch!” Garry screamed, pulling his weapon, knowing instantly he'd lost.

Two shots went off in rapid succession and fire burned through your shoulder. Crying out, you grabbed for it, your hand slipping through the wet heat of your blood pouring from the wound. Gasping at the pain, you stumbled backward, heading for the ground, only to be caught up in strong arms.

“(Y/N)!” Steve hollered. Holding you with one arm, he squeezed his other hand against your shoulder making you groan. “I know, I know, sweetheart, but I’ve got to slow the bleeding.”

“Steve,” you peered at him, face obscured by the helmet and mask. Your hand shook as you reached up to the buckle and undid it.

“Leave it, darlin'. We need to get you out of here,” he coaxed, trying to shake your hand free.

“Need to see. Need to… know,” you whimpered, pain wracking your body, ripping through you in waves of agony as you pushed feebly at it.

“Know what?”

You didn’t answer, only shoved the mask off with the last of your strength. Darkness was gathering at the edge of your vision, the red light washing on and off frustrating your attempts to see. Sliding your fingers through his hair, you drew him down, brought him closer, and stared up into eyes which appeared blue even under the pulsing red lights.

Your hand shifted to his face, touched his cheek, the curve of his jaw, his full bottom lip. “There you are. I knew you’d come.”

“I promised, didn’t I?” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“That you did, Cap,” you smiled as the darkness closed in. When your hand fell limply from his face, you could hear him call your name as if from a great distance before you heard nothing more.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Angst, swearing, smut NSFW 18+ end of chapter.
> 
> Song: Hoping by X Ambassadors

## Chapter Thirteen

* * *

“This is all your fault, I refuse to believe otherwise!” Loki snapped.

“And if you don’t step back, _son_ , I’m gonna plant my fist directly in your too smug face!” Steve snarled.

Such was your initiation back into wakefulness. The pain was your second awareness, followed by dry mouth. Sighing softly, not willing to move anything but your lungs for the moment, you listened to Loki and Steve bark at each other like feral dogs, Clint interjecting once in a while, Thor doing his best to mediate, and Bruce his utmost to keep them from tearing into each other in his lab.

Evidently, you were back at the compound, the sound of a heart monitor beeping away in the background. Finally, when you could take no more of their male posturing, you growled out, “Hey!” only to have it come out as more a squeak no one noticed. Clearing your throat, you tried a second time. “Hey! If you’re all going to stand in my room and snipe at each other, at least have the decency to turn on the damn lights!”

Silence followed your scratchy decree before feet approached your bedside and a hand touched your wrist.

“(Y/N)?”

“Bruce? Why the hell is it so dark in here?” you asked. “Wait? Did I do something to my eyes? Are they covered?” you reached for your face only to hiss in pain when what used to be your good arm no longer was.

“Easy, just… let me look,” Bruce murmured, pressing down on your arm. “Your right arm is broken but healing fast. Really fast. As is the bullet wound in your left shoulder. Good thing Garry was a shit shot.” He talked to keep you calm, but even his mellow voice wasn’t doing it for you.

“Bruce? What the fuck is wrong with my eyes?” Panic was seeping in far faster than you would have liked. His fingers touched your face and made you flinch.

“Hey, doll face,” Steve murmured.

A hand closed around yours just below your cast, fingers big and strong on the same side as Steve’s voice. “Steve…”

“Just hold still. Let Bruce work.”

The silence was deafening, almost as if everyone held their breath, but you could make out every heartbeat. Steve’s was slow and steady, calm, closer to you as if he’d bent or crouched down. Bruce’s was higher, more above, and a lot faster though his hands remained gentle on your face.

“Bruce?” you whispered when it kicked even higher.

“I’m going to have to run some tests,” he said, but the tone of his voice and the quickness of his heart betrayed what he already suspected.

“Bruce, don’t bullshit me.” Your breathing was coming in shallow pants. “Am I blind?” Hearts jumped all around the room.

“(Y/N).”

“Don’t!” you barked, grip tightening on Steve’s hand. “Don’t sugar coat it! Am I blind?”

He sighed, and you had your answer. “Yes.”

It still hit you like a sledgehammer to the chest. “Permanently?” you gasped, fighting for every lungful of air.

“I don’t know. I’ll need to run more tests. Maybe get Helen in to check you out.”

Breathing out a shaky breath, you nodded as best you could. “Whatever you think.” A hand touched the back of yours, the one laying in a sling across your stomach, the strap pulling a little at your neck and position it was in allowing you to make the assumption.

“You should get some more rest,” he said quietly, causing people to shuffle around.

“ _Lillesøster,”_ Loki’s hand replaced Bruce’s. “I will be here when next you wake.” The cool brush of his lips on your cheek came and went.

“ _Ugagn, Ikke gi ham problemer_ ,” you warned him to leave Steve alone.

“ _Din soldat er trygg … for nå._ ” _Your soldier is safe… for now._

“You’re such a child,” you huffed.

“I can attest to that, _bråkmaker_ ,” Thor chuckled, taking his brother’s place, his large hand stroking over your hair. “Loki had said you’d remembered Sváfa, but I was not sure whether to believe him or not.”

“And yet you still insist on calling me a troublemaker, Thor?” you tsked at him, holding your smile by will alone.

“When I found out Clint was inclined to call you _brat_ , I thought it most fitting.”

“Though troublemaker suits pretty damn good, too,” Clint grumbled.

The tap of a hand against your foot came from the same direction as his voice. “Don’t start, feathers.”

“Is she up?” Bucky growled from across the room, his boots stomping your direction quickly.

“Buck, now’s not a good time,” Steve said, his hand tightening on yours.

“I don’t give a shit if it is or isn’t. How the _fuck_ could you believe that crap? Believe that I would do-” his voice ended abruptly.

“Now is not the time, Sergeant Barnes!” Thor bellowed.

You weren’t sure if Thor had forcibly closed Bucky’s mouth, or if it was simply the look which would go with the voice of the Asgardian King that had caused him to stop speaking, but you knew if everyone didn’t get the hell out of the room you were going to embarrass yourself in the next few seconds thoroughly.

“I’d like to be alone now,” you said quietly, shutting your eyes. It was hard to know they were closed as nothing changed but for the feel of upper lid meeting lower.

“You sleep, doll,” Steve murmured, the bed shifting as he leaned over it and kissed your cheek.

When the last shuffle of feet ended, when the last heartbeat faded, you finally turned to face away from the door, ignoring the way it pulled on your shoulder, and let the tears fall. Bringing your hand up, you bumped your lip with your cast as you used it to stifle your sobs.

Sváfa had said there would be a price to pay for the forced return of your memories. She hadn’t known what, but you could only guess this was it.

When the bed shifted, you jolted, gasping out in surprise for you hadn’t heard anyone return over your own pounding heart and heaving breath.

“Baby,” Steve whispered, climbing up behind you. “Don’t cry. We’ll figure this out.”

Snuffling hard, you shook your head. “It’s going to be permanent, Steve. It’s the price for what they did. They forced me to remember, and now I have to pay for it.”

“What are you talking about?” His arm wrapped around you, cradled your injured one and drew you back, so you leaned against his chest.

“Sváfa told me. She’s why I made it through the chair, why they couldn’t wipe me like Bucky. They did this to me, and now… now…” You broke down, sobbing against your fist. “What good is a blind Avenger? What kind of Valkyrie can’t see?”

He had no words to give you that would ease your pain, only ones of love, softly whispered against your ear, his lips offering comfort in gentle presses and tender kisses as you cried yourself to sleep.

***

“She says it will be permanent,” Steve muttered to Bruce hours later when he finally emerged from her room to flop his butt down on a hard stool.

“She can’t know that.”

“She does, and I believe her.” Sighing, Steve took the offered cup of coffee from the man across from him. “She said Sváfa told her there would be a price for what was done. This, apparently, is it.”

“Fuck,” Bruce hissed quietly. “What the hell are we going to do?”

“We’re going to figure it out,” Steve stated firmly, an idea already forming. “Tony got any suggestions?”

Bruce shook his head. “Until Helen gets here and can tell us how bad it is, we’re in limbo.”

Steve watched Bruce play with his pen, roll it back and forth across the table top. “What’s your gut telling you?”

The pen stopped as the man in the glasses slumped forward. “Zero reaction of the pupils, none, not even a flicker of movement. Add that to the change in her iris colour? I’d say she’s right.”

He’d wondered about her eyes himself. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes so pale.” They’d become nearly white, only a ring of her natural colour remaining at the edge. While he’d always thought her eyes pretty, they’d become something more now. Something hauntingly beautiful in an ethereal way.

“You believe this whole past life thing?”

“You watched her with them, same as I did,” Steve sighed. “How can we not believe it?”

Bruce scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned. “I swear, every time I think we’re done with Asgardian bullshit, something new crops up.”

“And this time it got my girl.” He was still trying to figure out how to forgive himself for that.

“Steve, you can’t blame yourself for what happened. Garry was going to find a way to get to her one way or another. You’ve seen the files.”

He had seen them. Sam, Natasha, Clint, Maggie and Susan had come out with more information than they ever could have hoped for. Garry aka one Connor Strøm, last remaining descendant of the Norwegian king Hjörvarðr and Sigrlinn, had been groomed from birth for his role as the one called Helgi, Sváfa’s reincarnated lover.

Back in the time of Red Skull, the Hounds had found a scroll detailing every life Sváfa had lived, down through the ages as she was reunited over and over with her Helgi, her _sjelevenn_ , her soulmate. They’d taken the recitation and turned it into a map, used the knowledge to follow the genealogies, to track her new lives through the ages, until a time would arise when technology would catch up, and they could take her for their own foul purposes.

But they hadn’t taken into account the heart, soul, and will of a Valkyrie.

Thor had scoffed at their meddling when Loki had explained, stating the Sváfa he remembered would have been _disinclined_ to bow to their wishes. It hadn’t surprised the Asgardian King in the least when (Y/N) had walked away relatively unscathed. Too bad Thor had been wrong about the last part.

His girl was most certainly _not_ unscathed.

The little shit Garry had been planning this from the start, in fact, had (Y/N) not been recruited to the Avengers, they had planned on taking her on a SHIELD mission weeks later. As it was, she’d ended up with them, fit like a glove, and had stayed on indefinitely, causing the Hounds to readjust their plans.

He’d been subjected to a host of enhancements to create a desirable mutant to join the Avengers training, the Hounds lucking out with the one he ended up with. The quirks and twists of fate which had brought them all together just seemed too… coincidental for Steve’s liking. It was like someone was playing a huge game of chess, a game in which he was a pawn being passed around the board over which he had no say.

Steve looked up and his eyes settled on the darkened interior of the room he’d exited not long ago, on the body of his girl appearing small, fragile, easily broken upon the bed. In no more than a heartbeat of time, he knew whatever came next, there was nowhere he’d rather be than at her side for as long as she wanted him there.

“You’re worried, aren’t you?” Bruce murmured. “You think you’re not her soulmate?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. If I am, I did a _bang up_ job of being what she needed, and if I’m not…” Steve sighed. “I’ll have to let her go. I don’t know if I can do that, Bruce.”

Getting to his feet, Bruce set his hand on Steve’s shoulder and squeezed. “Do you love her, Steve?”

“With everything I am.”

“Then if the worst happens, if you’re not her _Helgi_ , you let her go because you love her and want her to be happy.” Patting Steve’s shoulder, Bruce left the room.

Sitting on the stool, Steve felt the crushing weight of despair settle over him, and let the silent tears course his cheeks for he knew Bruce was right.

***

When next you woke it was to complete silence and total darkness. Panic momentarily set in, wondering if you’d lost your hearing as well, before the steady thump of a heart at rest registered over the pounding of yours. Breathing out a shaky breath, you inhaled deeply, pulling the scent of Steve into your nose.

It was even stronger now, the loss of your sight heightening your other senses. You could smell the sweat on him, the tang of dirt and the copper scent of old blood. It made you wonder if he’d seen a shower since they’d brought you back or if he’d been perched at your bedside all this time. You figured option two was most likely the winner.

Shifting a little, the bed uncomfortable, causing an ache in your bones which had been there for days with your previous confinement, you grunted quietly and sighed at the state you were in. Was this, now, the extent of your life? If you were permanently blind, what good were you to the rest of them? What worth did you have to your team?

Confusion filled you, the host of insecurities Garry - Connor, dipshit - had caused to swell inside you suddenly rising, causing more tears to burn your eyes and stuff up your nose. You still didn’t know what was real and what was fake.

Clearly what had happened with Bucky was all lies. The former Winter Soldier would not be that angry if it hadn’t. And the stuff with Steve was also a fabrication by the shape-changing asshole, but what about Sam? Bruce? Tony? What about Sharon?

God! Steve had told you it was you he loved, but was it the heat of the moment? Why hadn’t he answered your question from before? And now with your vision in question, did you have any right to want to stay with him, to stay with-

“Hey, baby,” he called quietly, his large hand cupping your wet cheek. “It’s okay, doll face. You’re not alone.”

“Steve,” you sobbed, reaching for him. “I need out of this bed!”

“Shhh,” he whispered as he slipped his arms beneath you. “I got you.”

Slinging your casted arm around his neck, you buried your face in his shoulder as he lifted you, blankets and sheets dragging, catching between you, finally pulling free from the bed as he took you with him. His movements were careful, slow and smooth as he returned to his chair and held you in his lap.

“We’re going to figure this out,” he murmured against your hair.

Bending your elbow, you rested the hand in the sling against his heart and let the tears fall to soak his shirt. “I screwed up so bad,” you whispered. “It’s all my fault.”

“No. No, it isn’t,” he denied, running his hand down your back, and over your thigh. “Garry played us all for fools.”

“Not you. You never did trust him. I was so stupid.”

“You tried to see the best in him, that’s not stupid. He was very good at manipulation and very good at making you think he was us, but why didn’t you tell me about Bucky?”

Cringing internally, you tucked your chin down. “He’s your friend. I didn’t want to come between you. I guess… the first time he played Bucky was likely the day we’d run Clint’s gauntlet.”

“Sounds about right. That was the first instance FRIDAY noted two Bucky’s.”

“When he came at me on the firing range, he _was_ Bucky. I wasn’t expecting it. I thought everything was good and fine with Garry. Bucky showed up as he always does, said the same things he always said, then all of a sudden it was this garbage about how he’d _missed his chance_ to make a move and I was so… shocked. It shook me something fierce. Then he left, and ass hat showed up, and he just compounded what _Bucky_ had said, that all these people had these feelings for me, but I never noticed cause I was too wrapped up in… you.”

“You still could have said something.”

“What was I supposed to say, Steve? Hey, by the way, your best friend confessed to having unrequited feelings for your girl?” you snorted softly, “Yeah right. I wasn’t about to kick that hornet’s nest, and he’d said he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Then shit got weird, and I was too confused to know _what_ to do. It was like there was two of him.” Looking back, you should have been able to make the leap right there that there were two of him and that Garry was changing faces, but it hadn’t even occurred to you. “By the time he came at me with Sharon… I was in too deep. I told him to keep his distance, and he did, but only after warning me you were going to go back to her and I… I couldn’t handle…” The hitch in your breath was so painful.

“Why would you ever believe that?” Steve asked, hurt lacing his voice.

“He’s your oldest friend. Who better but Bucky to know what you would and wouldn’t do?”

Sighing heavily, Steve stood, causing you to clutch at him as he shifted you to the chair, letting your bare feet touch the cool tile floor.

Air moved. Clothing rustled. His footfalls were silent, but the speeding of his heart wasn’t. Apparently, he was pacing.

“Steve?”

Everything stopped. The only sound the steady thumping of his powerful heart. Then, shifting clothing again, the heat and weight of his hands on your knees, and the sound dropped down as he knelt to the floor. His hands slid back, caressed the length of your thighs in an action which should not have been so arousing in your current state of pain and distress, but his touch had always set you on fire. They closed at your hips, drew you forward, caused you to spread your knees with a quiet gasp as he wedged his broad torso between them. When his head came down on your stomach, the wetness of his tears soaked straight through your gown.

“Steve?” you asked again, flinching a little when you fought free of the sling to card your fingers through his hair. A rattle of breath shook his shoulders, and you waited, unable to comprehend what was happening.

“I am… so, so sorry,” he breathed against your belly.

“For what?” you asked, breathless.

His hands clenched into fists against your low back as he tugged you right to the edge of the seat. “For not telling you the truth when you asked about Sharon. I should have told you how much you mean to me, how much I love you. I should have said _no_ a thousand times. I thought showing you was enough and I was wrong. All I did was play into your fears and push you away without knowing it.”

“Stevie.” Tears dripped steadily off your chin as you stroked his hair. “You did show me. It’s not your fault.”

“It is!” he cried, lurching up so he could press his face to your chest and hold you almost too tight. “And now… with what Loki said,” he gasped, shaking all over. “I can’t just get you back only to lose you again.”

Ignoring the way your shoulder twinged, you wrapped your arms around him. “What did that overgrown child tell you? Why would you lose me?” You’d never seen him like this, not that you could _see_ him, but Steve sounded utterly desperate, voice cracking, heartbreaking, body shaking, broken.

“About… _him_ , your _sjelevenn._ Helgi. You’re reborn to be with him, always. I’m just a stepping stone in your path to your soulmate.” He broke down, the sob harsh against your chest.

Your mouth fell open, shock keeping you momentarily mute before you were pulling at his hair, forcing his head back. “Steve! Steve, stop!”

His head lifted slowly from you, and you brought your fingers forward, drew them along his cheek, used them to walk the planes and angles you could now only see in your memory. Caressing the arch of his brow, the strong bridge of his nose, you wiped the wet from his cheek and tenderly cupped his chin. “Loki was right. I do return every life to find my _sjelevenn_ , to search for Helgi. When I have my abilities as a Valkyrie, I know him on sight, but this was meant to be a quiet life, a life where I was to live and love as the mortals do, but that doesn’t mean I would be without him, without Helgi. I always wondered what twist of fate brought me to the Avengers when I was just… _nothing_ , a normal girl. I wasn’t enhanced. I wasn’t anything special.”

“Dollface,” he sighed.

You pressed your thumb to his lips. “Hush, it’s my turn to talk.”

His lips opened, teeth nipping the pad of your thumb in a tease you refused to react to, no matter how badly you wanted to.

“But I wound up here, with everyone, with you. I remember the first time I saw you in person. You were geared up for the forthcoming mission, your suit the red, white and blue one you wear most often. You turned around when Natasha made to introduce me, and all I could think was… _whoa_ , _how are you so pretty?_ ” His lips twitched beneath your thumb, a smile growing on his face. “When you took my hand and welcomed me to the team all soft smile and sparkling eyes, I think I fell in love with you right then. It was like I had been waiting for you for… ever.” Drawing him forward by the gentle grip on his chin, you rested your forehead against his. “How could you ever think you _weren’t_ my _sjelevenn_?”

Every muscle in his body seemed to melt as he swayed into you. “I am?” he whispered, awe and hope so raw it was nearly painful to hear filled his voice.

“Why do you think I worked so hard to get your helmet off? I had to know, had to be sure. It’s you, Steve. It’s always you.” Now, you were thankful you had for, though you’d suspected it to be so, you’d confirmed it before losing your sight.

“Baby,” he sighed, right before his mouth found yours.

What started as tender and sweet, soon morphed into heated and desperate as you worked to remember the taste of him, the feel of his tongue and the texture of his lips. Everything was the same, yet somehow different as he tasted stronger. His scent was richer. The way his hands and lips moved across your flesh was _more_ somehow. Everywhere he touched hummed with life and renewed desire as his hands delved beneath the thin hospital gown to skim the flesh of your inner thighs.

A heady moan escaped your lips when he freed them to drop his to your throat. He latched onto your pulse point, dragged his teeth over the rapidly hammering beat while his callused fingers delved between your thighs and rubbed over your quickly dampening folds.

“I missed you, darlin', so damn much. I was so scared we wouldn’t find you, wouldn’t get you back. These last two weeks have been hell,” he whispered, only to groan quietly when his fingers slipped between your folds and into your heat.

“Steve!” you gasped, unable to stop the rush of pleasure his fingers gave when they pressed up against your bundle of nerves and circled. “I don’t think… I’m cleared for…” a soft moan whimpered from you, “this kind of action!”

“Just gonna make you feel good, baby. So good. Need to show you how much I missed you, love you, need you. Let me make you feel good, then we’ll cuddle, and you can get some real sleep,” he coaxed, fingers never faltering in their actions.

“Oh god, Stevie,” you whimpered, rocking into his hand as his lips kissed down your chest, the ties on you gown suddenly coming loose. Cold air washed over your skin before his mouth closed over your nipple. Whining, high pitched and full of pleading, you moved against him, rocking and grinding into his wicked fingers. Tugging at his hair had him lifting his head only long enough to lap a trail over to your other nipple, suck and nip and tease it into a hard bud as well.

It felt like it had been eons since he’d touched you. Since desire had flown so freely through your veins. Arching back, you bit your lip to keep from crying out when the gradually tightening coil at your center finally broke, and you came on his hand like an untouched virgin in the first throes of passion.

“Fuck that was hot,” he growled, rubbing gently over your core as shudder after shudder raced through you.

Humming softly in pleasure, you rested your forearms on his shoulders, shivering when he finally pulled his hand away. He shifted you enough to tie the shoulders of your gown together, then scooped you up and settled you back into the seat in his lap.

The firm rod against your bottom made you snicker. “Seems you’re happy to see me.”

“Sweetheart, once you’re cleared for the more _vigorous_ of activities, I’ll show you just how much.”

There was a dark promise in those words, one that set your womb clamping in anticipation. “Yes, Captain,” you yawned and snuggled into him. As you drifted into sleep, content for the moment, you wondered what had become of Garry?


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Angst, swearing
> 
> Song: The Other Side by Ruelle

## Chapter Fourteen

* * *

The verdict was in, and the news wasn’t good though it was what you’d expected. Helen hadn’t even needed to make the trip once Bruce had sent her your scans. Your optic nerve was fired, no longer viable, with zero chance of ever being repaired. Even with your new crazy healing abilities, the cells of your optic nerves remained, for lack of a better term, dead.

The world had become dark and scary, something which set you clinging to Steve.

In a matter of days, your bullet wound and broken arm had completely healed, and Bruce had released you from the med-wing, but panic had set in as soon as you’d taken your first blind steps.

Everything was so loud, smelled so strong. Even the air on your skin was enough to make you flinch. Every step you took was terrifying, not knowing where you were, what was ahead of you.

Steve was your safety net. With him at your side, you could focus on the beat of his heart or the sound of his voice. His scent drowned out all others, and his touch kept you calm. It was like he could sense when you were close to having a meltdown and would arrive to take you away, back to your now shared room where the world was drowned out by all things Steve.

Today, day four since your diagnosis, you were sitting on the sofa in the lounge. Through the window you could feel the heat of the sun come and go on your skin, making you wonder if it was cloudy outside. It was quiet, for once, everyone off doing something, training somewhere, debriefing and whatnot.

Vision and Wanda had gone with Sharon to handle the mission the woman had brought with her when the others had come to get you and were due back today.

Guilt rippled inside you for that. If you’d been smart enough to _talk_ to Steve, Garry would never have gotten the better of you, you wouldn’t be in this predicament, and wouldn’t be questioning your place in this compound now that you were, technically, a burden.

What worth did a blind Avenger slash Valkyrie really have?

It was a question which plagued you day after day, hour after hour. What good were you? In all your past lives you’d been Helgi’s shield. You’d fought at his side, kept him safe, and watched his back. How were you to do so now?

Sighing heavily, you plunked your elbow down on the armrest and set your chin in your palm.

Nearly silent footsteps walked toward you, the wiring of a cybernetic arm accompanying the strides, and you flinched, knowing it was coming but avoiding it like the plague. “Bucky,” you murmured, keeping your face turned away.

It did little good as he sat on the coffee table and took your hand. “Hey, darlin', how you doing?”

You shrugged. “Good as can be expected.”

Already the noise was building. His heartbeat, the sound of his arm, the shifting of the leather he wore. Weapons on his hips smelled strongly of gun oil and powder. The wind rushed and whistled past the windows. People talked and laughed in the hall.

All of it set your head pounding.

“I talked to Steve, about what that shit told you.”

“I know, he said.”

“I was gonna yell at you, you know, before…”

You gave a small smile. “You could still yell. I’m blind, not deaf, Buck.”

His hand tightened. “Yeah, yeah you are. I’m real sorry about that,” he said quietly.

“Not your fault, Bucky. I was the one too stupid to know it wasn’t you.” You couldn’t see him, but the shame still had you looking away.

“Sweetheart, I couldn’t tell the difference between you and that fucker when we found you. I damn near put a bullet in you. If you hadn’t known about Steve’s lisp… I may have killed you.”

You’d never smelled fear before, but even the trickle of it you were getting off Bucky was sour enough to make your nose wrinkle. “He was an excellent mimic.”

“He was. Once I calmed down, got past the mad and the scared, I came to that realization. I’m sorry for barking at you your first day back, doll. Real sorry when I ended up with Thor smacking his ham hock of a hand to my face,” he grumbled.

A snicker escaped, even as the pounding in your skull grew worse. “I wondered about that. Couldn’t tell if he’d only glared at you, or if he’d forcibly shut you up.”

He snorted, the sound a familiar one. “Try both. Only reason I didn’t clock him.”

“Steve won’t tell me what happened with Garry. He tries, but…” you shrugged. Every time Garry’s name came up, it was like Steve relived what happened in the compound. His heart would pound, and his breathing grow ragged until you grew so concerned you’d stopped asking, hating how upset he got.

Bucky shifted to the sofa, his hand never leaving yours. “It was tough on Steve after you were taken. He didn’t eat, hardly slept, worked out like a man possessed. He went through Hill’s files more than anyone besides Faye, and pieced it all together while the rest of us just tried to keep up.”

“He’s always smarter than people give him credit for,” you said with a soft smile.

“Oh, I know it, doll,” he chuckled. “When Thor and Loki showed up, Loki tore into him for losing you, said all kinds of crap to make Steve doubt himself and his place in your heart.”

And Loki was going to have his ass verbally handed to him when next the God of Mischief appeared. He’d said he’d stick around, but so far both he and Thor were AWOL.

“Steve took it hard, real hard. I’m glad you’ve cleared up that whole _Helgi_ mystery.”

He swallowed, the sound a nervous one and made you smile. “Worried for a minute, were you?”

“Nah,” he scoffed. “Shit, doll face. You two look at each other, and the world disappears.”

Again you looked away, the words both pleasing and disconcerting.

“What’s that look for, (Y/N)?”

You shook your head. “It’s nothing. What happened with Garry?”

“I shot him right as he shot you. Bruce called him a shit shot, but the fucker would have killed you had I been any slower. You did train him after all.” He bumped his shoulder into yours.

The praise, such as it was, made you blush. “So… he’s dead?” you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well…” he hedged, fidgeting with his metal hand, causing the gears to spin and whir.

“What’s that mean?”

More movement, the scent of conditioner, metal through hair as he thrust his fingers through his locks, something he did when he was uncomfortable. “I shot him, but it only put him down. Steve was busy with you, so I cuffed shit for brains and hauled his ass back here.”

Everything inside you froze. All noise ended, silence falling so rapidly you thought you’d gone deaf as you slowly turned your head towards Bucky, looking in the direction of his voice. “The fucking glamour fairy is _here_?” you asked, sharp and deadly.

“He was. He disappeared the same time Thor and Loki did. No way he could have escaped, not where he was locked up, so we figure they took him.”

A shiver raced through your body, this one of excited knowing. “Oh… shit,” you snickered. “I could _almost_ feel sorry for him if those two have him.”

“What you mean?” he gruffed. “I was looking forward to beating him bloody, as were a few others. Even the Hulk called dibs.”

A laugh slipped out with that thought. “He would be little more than a meat sack.”

“Such was Bruce’s explanation. Needless to say, the big guy isn't too pleased with the two Asgardians. Heard Bruce mutter _puny gods_ a few times. Not sure he even noticed.”

“Don’t worry. If Loki has him, Garry will wish for death.” Maybe you shouldn’t sound nearly gleeful at the prospect of Loki torturing the man, but with all he’d put you through, with the outcome of his _experiment_ now known, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Do I want to know?” Bucky murmured, clearly disconcerted by the look on your face.

Closing your eyes, you let yourself remember. “There are places on Asgard no one willingly ventures. Places where only a God would dare walk, and even they did so with caution. Loki loved such places. He had secret caves and tunnels all over, ins and outs no one knew of. Places where no one would hear the screams…”

“Doll, you’re scarier than I remember,” Bucky chuckled, patting your hand. “I think I like it.”

Grinning, you shook your head. “Just as long as you don’t wax poetic about your _feelings_ , Barnes, we’re all good.”

“Nah. I like you, (Y/N). You're like a sister, but everyone can see you and Steve belong together. He deserves to have some happiness in his life.”

Again your face fell, your smile faltering as you looked away.

His metal hand was cold on your cheek when he turned your face back to his.  “No more bullshit, doll. What’s going on?”

Sighing, you deflated. “I’m just thinking of the future. Not much call for a blind Valkyrie.”

“Jeez, woman! It’s been less than a week. Give people some time to figure shit out,” he huffed.

“What’s to figure out, Buck? I’m blind. It’s permanent. Nothing Helen or Bruce or Tony can do will ever _fix_ that! I’m no good here anymore. Gods!” Jerking your hand from his, you clenched it into a fist on your knee. “I can’t even _pace_ anymore when I’m frustrated for fear of walking into something I can’t see! Everything is too loud, too intense. I can hear _everything_ , and it’s driving me crazy! The only time it stops is when I’m with Steve, but what kind of life is this? What kind of burden will I become for him?”

“It will get better, darlin'. You’ve just got to give it time,” he tried to reassure you.

“No.” You shook your head. “It’s not getting _better_ , Bucky, it’s getting worse! Every day it gets harder to leave my room, leave Steve’s room. I don’t know what to do!” you wailed, tears falling freely down your face.

“Hey, now,” he murmured, dragging you into a hug. “It’s okay, darlin'. We need to figure this out. One step at a time.”

“I feel useless and…”

“And?”

“Unworthy.”

“Unworthy of what?” he asked softly.

“Of Steve.” More tears fell, sliding silently off your chin to soak into Bucky’s clothes. “I’m supposed to protect him, but I can’t even pick out matching socks anymore.”

“Oh, doll face,” he sighed, stroking your back.

Snuffling, you pushed him away. “Can you help me get back? I’ve got a killer headache.”

“Yeah, yeah I can get you there.” He helped you up, tucking your arm in his to make guiding you easier.

Every step filled you with crushing despair, the darkness so complete. It played havoc with your balance, causing you to cling tightly to Bucky, and everything was so much louder as you had to make your way past a bunch of communal spaces before the living quarters again grew quieter.

At the door, you paused to detach your arm from Bucky’s. “I’m good from here.”

“You sure, doll?” Worry coated his tone.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.” Nodding, you offered a fake smile and swung the door shut behind you. It was eight steps to the back of the sofa, another ten to the bedroom door — six to the edge of the bed which you sat on once you found it with your head down. Breathing slowly, you let the very essence which was Steve soak in, block out the noise, fill your heart.

You should leave, it was the only choice. Eventually, you’d become a burden Steve shouldn’t be tasked with handling, a distraction he couldn’t afford, but the idea of leaving, of walking away from your heart and soul hurt _so much_ it set you grabbing for your chest. The love you shared was so big, so bold, it spanned generations, continually being reborn to live and love again. How could you walk away from that?

Falling back on the bed, you scooted around until you could pull Steve’s pillow to your chest and bury your nose in it.

***

When Bucky walked into his office with _that_ look, Steve knew there was trouble. “What’s up?”

“Just talked to (Y/N),” he mumbled, clenching his fist in the back of the chair across from Steve.

“What’s wrong? She still unsure? You didn’t yell at her, did you?” Over the last few days, everyone who Garry had imitated had sat with (Y/N) clearing the air, even Tony whose harsh words had been his own, just coming at a low point of this whole fiasco.

“You need to go talk to her, Steve. She’s… not doing well.”

Instantly on his feet, Steve turned scared eyes to Bucky. “What? How? Did you take her back to medical?”

“Not physically, punk. Physically she’s as good as she’s gonna get. It’s her mental health that’s fucked up. I should know, I know depression when I see it.”

Bucky had suffered with it long enough; Steve knew in his heart the man was going to be right. “What did she say?”

“She feels useless, likely she feels like a burden. She’s lost a vital part of herself and doesn’t know how to adjust. Add that to her _destiny_ , and she’s got to be feeling lost.”

“Destiny? What destiny?”

“Sometimes I wonder how you can be so smart and yet so stupid,” Bucky snorted.

“Bite me, jerk.”

“Kiss off, punk,” Bucky growled right back. “This Helgi stuff! She’s supposed to be your protector, and now she can’t! What good is a blind Valkyrie? That’s what she said to me.”

Steve flinched, well aware of her inner strife. “I know, she said the same to me. What good is a blind Avenger?”

“It’s horseshit. Even if she can’t go on missions again, don’t mean fuck all,” Bucky grumbled. “She can learn other skills. People do it all the time.”

Coming around his desk, Steve leaned against it and crossed his arms. “Could you?”

“Huh?” Bucky muttered.

“If you ended up blind tomorrow, could you face having to learn everything all over again, never pick up another gun, never be able to assist on a mission again? Or would it drive you a little crazy?”

Opening his mouth, Bucky then closed it with a snap. “Point taken.”

“I’ve got an idea, a plan, but I keep running up against a wall. The guy I’m looking for disappeared a while ago. FRIDAY’s looking, but so far she’s come up empty.”

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Bucky sighed. “Still, you best go talk to your girl, Steve. She thinks you’d be better off without her.”

“The fuck you just say?” Steve snarled. “After everything, she’s just gonna give up?”

“Pal, I’m just the messenger.” Bucky held up his hands. “I took her back to your room and came straight here.”

Pointing at his desk, Steve snapped, “Plant your ass, write the reports, and _pray_ FRIDAY finds the guy I’m looking for… _quickly_!” Striding out of the room, he slammed the door behind him.

Bucky chuckled softly, knowing he’d done good. He wasn’t about to let Steve lose the one thing he wanted most in the entire world, no matter what she thought was right.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst, swearing, smut NSFW 18+ light bondage, Norwegian which may or may not be correct.
> 
> Song: Incomplete by James Bay (this one is for Steve)

## Chapter Fifteen

* * *

The door slammed open with a bang, waking you, causing you to sit bolt upright with a gasp and scramble backward, running your shoulder into the headboard. A soft yelp, more surprise than pain, escaped your lips as you tried to orient yourself to the room and who or what was coming at you.

“Baby, you and me gotta talk,” Steve growled, shutting the door with a slam, making you flinch. His steps across the carpet slowed, ceased as the second door, this one to the bedroom, shut far gentler than the first one.

“Steve?” Fear tripped your heart to race and pound, still not quite awake from your crying induced nap. Groggy and disoriented, he was on you before you could comprehend what was happening.

His fingers wrapped around your ankle and dragged your body down the bed with a jerk, sending you to your back. His other hand closed in the front of your shirt and pulled you up, setting your head spinning with the swiftness of the move. Hot breath washed over your lips. His scent - overwhelming, intoxicating - filled your nose, your lungs, your soul.

“You don’t get to leave me,” he growled.

The sound, the actions, caused your belly to clench, desire rippling to life because, sweet Murphy, it was hot as hell when he went all Captain on your ass. “Steve.”

“No, now it’s your turn to shut up and listen!” he snarled. Once you swallowed hard and nodded, he continued. “You think after everything, all we’ve been through, _all of it_ , I’d be better off without you? Do you know how much that hurts me? Goddamn it, (Y/N)! Are you trying to knife me in the chest, cause you’re succeeding!”

Gasping, you recoiled, going only as far as the threads of your shirt allowed. “Steve… no.”

“Then what? What is it? You think because you’re different now I can’t love you anymore?”

“I…” you stopped, unable to say it.

“You what?” he asked, voice no less harsh than before.

“I’m… no good to you,” you whispered, unable to stop the sob which accompanied the fresh tears falling down your face. “I’m getting worse, Steve.”

“Getting worse how?” he asked. 

The grip on your shirt loosened when he settled to the bed beside you, allowing you to fall to your back, but his fist remained resting over your heart, likely feeling it kick and jump with your emotions. You closed your eyes, eyes Natasha said were both haunting and disconcerting. Finding out Nat was made uneasy by anything had you feeling a little self-conscious over them now. 

“Everything is so loud. Smells so strong. Tastes so potent. The air on my skin is like fingertips brushing, always brushing, and the wind can feel like a slap.”

“It’s just an adjustment, darlin’. You’ll get there.”

Laughing hoarsely, you shook your head, lifting your hands to press them to your face. “You don’t get it…”

“Explain it to me.” What softness had been there was replaced by his Captain’s voice again.

It set your blood humming with his proximity. “You know Mike from logistics?”

“Yeah.”

You could hear the frown in his voice, wondering what you were getting at. “He’s got different cologne on today. Something with sandalwood and citrus.”

His intake of breath showed Steve’s surprise. “How could you… you haven’t…”

A wry smile flickered. “And he’s sleeping with Susan in accounting. I heard him bragging to Bryan from tactical.”

“Jeez… that’s… not possible.”

It shouldn’t have been. You’d spent your time either in this room or the lounge, there was no reason for you to have been anywhere close to logistics and accounting on the other side of the building to know either truth, but you did. “When I said I could hear everything, Steven, I meant I could hear _everything._ I can _smell_ everything! The only place that drowns it all out is right here, in this room, or at your side. I can focus here. I can _breathe_ here.”

“Baby,” he whispered, clearly shocked. He shifted, his hand flattening to slide up, curl around your throat.

His touch nearly made you purr it felt so good, so right, but you fought it down. “It’s not just being a Valkyrie again either. My hearing was good, like yours and Bucky’s good, but this is… insane. I can’t shut it down. I can’t turn it off. It all builds and builds and builds inside my head until I want to scream and beg for one moment of _silence_!” Pressing the heels of your hands into your temples, you ground your teeth together to keep the despair-filled sob from making its way free. Sighing, you let your hands fall to the bed.

When the touch of his forehead to your temple came, you shuddered for you could almost feel the tremors, the pain in his body for you, for your suffering. “Dollface, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because… you’re already worried. You have enough on your plate without your suddenly disabled girlfriend falling apart and adding to your stress.” Rolling away from him, you removed yourself from his touch. It made you ache and yearn for things you were no longer worthy of. “I knew once I told you, you’d want to be here all the time, stay with me, so I wasn’t freaking out, but you _can’t_ , Steven. You’re Captain America. I may need you, but the world needs you more. I’m no good for you,” you breathed out a shuddering breath, curling in on yourself, “…not in this life.”

Hard hands latched around your wrists, dragging you back to him as he pinned them over your head, the length of his body holding you down, pressing you into the mattress. Harsh and laboured breathing washed across your face, and you knew, had you been able to see it, his face would be like thunder, his eyes dark and stormy skies, brows lowered in an intense glower.

“You’re not my _girlfriend_ ; you’re my _sjelevenn_! My damn soulmate! If you think I’d let _anything_ come between us, you’d be wrong. I’d retire tomorrow, turn in my shield, and walk away from everything and everyone if that’s what needs to happen to keep you safe, make you happy.”

“No! Steve you can’t!” This was exactly why you hadn’t told him. “They need you!”

“You need me more.”

Shaking your head, you broke down, the tears coming hard and fast as you struggled to get free. “No! I won’t let you!”

He released your hands to cup your face. “Baby, I said _if_.”

It took a moment for the word to register, for your tears to slow enough to respond with a cautious, “If?”

Lips pressed to yours, soft and gentle, tender and sweet. A smile spread, followed by a chuckle. “I just had a moment of Disney déjà vu.”

Cinderella’s evil stepmother flashed through your memory, a tremulous smile followed. Steve was a sucker for the old classic cartoons. “What do you mean _if_?”

“Do you trust me?” he asked, voice barely a whisper, the pressure of his lips on yours no more than that of a feather.

“Yes. Always.”

“Then trust me now. I have a plan. Let me run with it. Don’t give in, baby. Don’t give up on me.”

“A plan? Steven, I’m _blind_! I’m an Avenger, a Valkyrie! Waiting at home like some forties housewife will _kill_ me!”

“I don’t know,” he murmured, his nose brushing over the tip of yours in a shiver-inducing caress. “Seeing you barefoot and round with my brat might be kind of nice… one day.”

Heat rippled across your skin, his blush warming yours. Gripping his shoulders you sighed, knowing it was time for more truths, all the truths. “While I’m not opposed to that, someday, you don’t understand what it means to be Valkyrjur. We are a warrior race for a reason. I _need_ to fight, Steve. And as your _sjelevenn…_ I need to do it by your side. Sitting out, remaining behind… it would be a slow death to my soul.”

He jerked once, hard, before freezing in place. “What?” he whispered, horror lacing the words.

“What the Hounds did… it was not a kindness.”

“Jesus!” he swore, his forehead dropping to yours. “Were you _ever_ going to tell me?”

Your mouth opened, closed with a click when your teeth came together. “I don’t know.”

He pulled away, his weight leaving you, leaving the bed as he stood and went to the far side of the room.

Pressing your hand to your mouth, you stayed where you were, limp, lifeless, feeling hopelessness and despair fill your heart and drown your soul. You hadn’t lied, you didn’t know.

How did you tell someone you weren’t worthy to be with them anymore? That you were so damaged by what was done to you, you weren’t sure how to keep moving forward? That the only thing you had left to cling to was the love you shared, the love that refused to allow you to make any choice but to keep on, even when another part of you seemed to die a little more every day.

A drawer slammed, then silence except for the steady beat of Steve’s heart. He moved, fabric shifting. Something fell to the ground and made you frown. It sounded soft like… clothes?

His hands were back, grabbing the front of your t-shirt. They rent it down the middle shredding it open and ripping it from your body. Before you could even gasp a protest, fingers hooked the waistband of your sweats and sent them singing down your legs, the fabric leaving a friction burn it was peeled from you so swiftly.

“Steve!” you gulped, reaching out in denial.

“Weeks ago you asked me if I was punishing you for being Garry’s mentor. Do you remember what I told you when I had you pinned against the wall?” Command cracked in his voice like a whip, soft but deadly when his hands captured yours.

Something silky smooth wrapped around your wrists, tying them together as you gaped, looking very much like a fish you supposed, at the man you could no longer see. “That I… I wouldn’t need to ask.” Your arms were jerked up, and he tied what you thought was maybe a tie to the headboard.

“Do you need to ask, _doll_?” he drawled, hands landing on your hips and shifting you over to the middle of the big bed.

“No!” you squeaked when the brush of lips, the stubble of scruff, rubbed at your chest, the lacy bra you were in doing nothing to mute the sensation.

At least those you could figure out by touch. You may not be able to tell black lace from white, but at least you knew it was lace.

“No what?” he growled, hand sliding beneath you, making you arch as he snapped the clasp free, your chest coming in contact with his very bare one.

“No… Captain,” you breathed, already incredibly turned on.

Fabric tore, the straps a sacrifice to his hands when he ripped the bra from your arms. “Better. But oh, _baby_ , you’re in so much trouble. You’re going to take your discipline like the good agent you are, aren’t you, doll?”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded, closing your eyes.

“Don’t you do that, (Y/N). You keep those eyes open.”

“But… they’re strange,” you whispered, turning your face away.

“Who told you that?”

You shrugged, unwilling to rat out Natasha.

His hand was gentle on your chin when he turned your face back. “They’re not strange. They’re haunting, different, but they make you look surreal, like magic. They’re beautiful, just like you are.”

“Oh Steve,” you whispered, lifting your eyes back toward him.

“But you ain’t getting out of this, doll face. You don’t get to keep stuff from me. Not stuff like this.” His lips closed over yours before you could speak, taking them in a searing kiss which left you moaning, a whimper flying free when he pulled away. “You need silence, baby? You need to find your focus? Then you focus on _me_.”

His hands stroked, sliding over your sensitive skin, making you feel every callus, every rough spot on his palms. Since the night in the med-wing, he’d been careful, gentle and sweet, understanding to a point how stressful this situation was for you even though he hadn’t realized the full extent of your depression and anxiety. These last few days had been trying, and by the time you’d gotten to bed, you’d been too exhausted to offer much more than a token cuddle before allowing sleep to steal you away so you could dream in colourful pictures again.

Steve hadn’t protested, letting you lead, content to merely hold you at night, but now, with the weight of his hands on your body, you wondered how you could have gone so long without this. Without his touch. A touch which now seemed to radiate his heart with every brush and squeeze.

His hands skimmed down to your hips, hooked into the waistband of your underwear. Fabric ripped beneath the pressure when he tore them from your body.

“Steve!” you gasped.

He’d pretty much destroyed every article of clothing you had on. “That’s _sir_ or _Captain_ , doll face. Besides, never really liked those anyway.” A wash of hot, moist air curled over your hip before lips pressed to the bone.

A moan jolted through you at the contact.

“We’re gonna discuss these concerns of yours, sweetheart. Each and everyone, and if you’re good, if you tell me the truth so I can help you get through them, I’ll make sure you get rewarded for it.”

Again the wash of breath preceded the slide of soft lips over your hip bone, down to the top of your thigh. “Wh-what kind,” a whimper escaped when his teeth nipped you, “reward, _Captain_?”

A big hand pressed into your thigh, shifted your legs apart, the bed dipping between them. His hand drew your leg up, placed it over the warm, velvet smooth skin of his shoulder, your heel coming to rest in the hollow created by his spine. Fingertips skated the back, making you arch, moan, open yourself wider.

“The best kind,” he whispered, his breath now heating your curls.

“Shit!” hissed out when warm and wet, his tongue slid swiftly up your core, flicked over your clit and disappeared.

“Now,” he murmured, the bed shifting as he settled. A firm hand pressed against your abdomen, fingers tugging lightly on your curls. “Tell me.”

The lick came a second time, slow and thorough, over the outer lip without dipping inside. It was pleasure and torture, so close to your aching bundle of nerves. “I feel…” you gasped, groaning when he stopped.

“You feel?” he nipped gently.

“Useless!” The tie around your hands jerked when you did as he sucked your clit.

“And?” he murmured, the sound vibrating through you when he didn’t lift his head.

“Unworthy,” you whispered. Another slow lick had your legs shaking. Everything was over sensitive now. Everything. To the point where your skin felt hot and achy, like the tiniest of attention could set you off.

“Of?”

His tongue pressed deep, making you moan. Already you could feel how wet you were, how slick and hot you felt. “Captain!”

“Of?” he growled, sliding a finger over your folds.

“You!”

All movement stopped, causing you to whine and arch toward his mouth. Your nose was full of his scent, of your arousal, of the sweat on his skin and the tang of salt from the tears you’d shed.

A rumble of sound, nearly a snarl rippled over your skin when he slowly pressed his fingers deep, two of them sliding over your walls in a caress which had your mouth falling open. “And why do you think you’re unworthy of me?” The grind of his teeth was loud in your ears as he clenched them tightly together.

The tide of concerns you’d been holding back broke to tumble from your mouth. “Because! I’m yours, and I can’t protect you! Even in this life, I watched your back. I kept you safe. How can I do that now? What kind of _sjelevenn_ am I? What good am I? What use am I?” Crying again, body aching, straining, wrung taught with the stress, you shook with each ragged sob. “They took you from me!”

He shifted, the slide of his warm skin on yours came, his hand staying gentle, stroking through you folds, keeping you on the cusp, on the edge of pleasure as your mind struggled to deal with the pain of what had been done. When he settled again, the heat of his body nearly scorching beside you, his lips skimmed the side of your breast, his tongue laved your nipple, and you cried out.

“I’m right here, darlin’. How did they take me from you?”

Biting your lip, you shook your head, feeling stupid and childish. The fingers at your core slipped inside, soaked and slick with your arousal, thrust firmly, took you screaming high and stopped. “Please!” you begged.

“Tell me!” he demanded, lapping at your breast. His free hand, digging beneath you, slid up your back until it closed over the nape of your neck, holding you at his mercy. Thumb and fingers dug into the straining cords keeping you still.

It felt good, surprisingly good. Tension fell away, somehow stealing more of your control from you but making you feel safe, soft and pliant. The part of you which had been holding on so tight, staying strong for so long, finally let go.

Looking to where his voice came from you whispered, “He laughed… Garry laughed, all the time. When they put me in the chair, it was to take you away as much as it was to bring me back.”

“Baby,” he breathed, pain in every letter.

“They didn’t take my memories, but they still took you away. I can’t see you.” More tears, these silent, fell to soak the hair at your temples. “What if I forget, too? Forget what you look like. I couldn’t bear it.”

The hand between your thighs pulled away, making you whimper.

“Shhh. I got you, love,” he murmured.

The ties which bound you to the bed fell away, but you remained limp. It was as if he’d wrung you dry, forced every fear from you, but you weren’t upset, just… drained.

He shifted again, knees settling between yours, but his hands went beneath you, lifted you to straddle his thighs when he moved. His legs crossed as he sat down, yours were maneuvered around his waist allowing the length of his hard cock to press into your soft belly.

Held against him, you waited, quiet and still, unable to comprehend what he was up to. His hand wrapped your wrist, lifted your fingers, eventually bringing them in contact with his lips.

“Here,” he whispered, running the tips of your fingers over his mouth. “This is how you remember. Touch and remember.”

Inhaling sharply, eyes widening in surprise, you kept your fingers on his lips even after he released your wrist. Hesitantly, you traced the shape, the cupid’s bow, the full bottom lip. Lifting your other hand from where it hung limply over his arm, you brought both to the top of his head, ran your overly sensitive fingers through his hair, marvelling at the texture. It was soft, silky, and you could smell his shower from this morning.

You gently drew them over his forehead, strong and high, his skin warm. Your thumbs brushed over his eyebrows, the arch of them while his face took shape in your mind, mixing beautifully with your memory. The sharp slope of his nose, the shape of his ears, but when you shifted to his cheeks you found them wet, fresh tears trickling down his face.

“Oh… oh, Stevie,” you breathed, cupping his face.

“I know this is hard and scary, and frustrating, but you can’t leave me. When I lost you,” his breath caught, hands drawing you in flush to his chest, so his next words were spoken nearly on your lips. “When I lost you it was like someone ripped out my heart. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. I _need_ you. Whether you stand at my back or my side doesn’t matter. Whether you fight to keep me safe or not, I can’t do _this,_ all of this, without you to come back to.” His breath shuddered out, and lips captured yours, the kiss tender and full of emotion.

You’d forgotten in your worries there was another half to the equation, another piece to the puzzle. As he was your _sjelevenn,_ you were his, and you had caused him pain by not confiding and relying on him to be what you needed when you needed it.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you licked at his mouth, begging entry, pressing your tongue to his when he granted it. Sweet and hot, his tongue twisted with yours, fought against it, pushed it aside to nip at your lip, ending up with you moaning against him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered when he finally released your lip. “Stevie, I’m so sorry.”

He sagged into you, his relief palpable with his face tucked into your throat. “Promise me you’ll let me try. I have a plan,” he murmured.

“I promise.”

“And that no matter what, you’ll _talk_ to me about these things. No more running. You don’t run, can’t run ever again. It _killed_ me last time to know he’d hurt you enough, made you doubt me enough, to send you scurrying.”

Nodding, you tightened your hold. “I will. I never meant to hurt you, Steve.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He kissed your throat, your jaw, your chin. His fingers trailed down your spine, settled on your buttocks and rocked your hips into him, your wet core sliding over his girth.

Gasping at the sharp burst of pleasure, you tilted your hips, leaning back to get better friction.

“Fuck,” he moaned softly, kissing the hollow of your throat before he lifted you up, brought you forward and dropped you down, impaling you swiftly.

“Oh, god, Steve!” Everything burned and ached as he stretched you open, but when you made to rock forward, he held you tightly against him by the hips.

“Did you think we were done, _min vakre skjoldpike_?”

The words rang bells, brought memories rushing to the surface and left your skin tingling. “Steve, how?”

“Thor,” he murmured, dragging the fingers of his right hand over your hip to sink them between you. His thumb found your hard bud, began to circle and rub as he kept you still. “He told me it was what Hel- what _I_ used to call you.”

_My beautiful shield maiden._

Throwing your head back, unable to handle the memories, the feelings, the sensations, you cried out in bliss when the edge you’d been riding for what felt like forever finally fell away.

Orgasm crashing through you, you sank your nails into Steve’s shoulders while fire and pleasure poured through your body. Panting heavily, your walls clenching tightly on the length of steel lodged firmly inside you only intensified the feelings racing through your veins.

“Damn, baby,” he grunted, a shiver running through him, clearly finding your release just as pleasurable.

The reverence in his tone made you smile. “That good, Captain?”

His hand shifted to grip your buttock, rocking you just enough to feel him slide through your walls. “So good,” he murmured, nipping at your mouth.

When you tried to pull him closer, his hand pressed against your belly. “Steve?”

“You haven’t learned your lesson yet.”

Brow arching, you stopped assisting, wondering what he was up to. When his thumb delved down, pressed again to your bundle of nerves you caught on quickly. “Oh, jeez,” you hissed, feeling the coil slowly wind tighter.

“That’s right, darlin’. You’re gonna come until I’m satisfied all these thoughts of keeping secrets are gone from your pretty head.”

“Shit, Steve,” you moaned.

His touch was like electricity, but when he leaned forward to bite gently the spot beneath your ear which seemed, somehow, to directly connect your core, it sent you reeling over the edge a second time with very little effort.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” groaned from you.

“You’re so sensitive now, ain’t you, (Y/N)? Coming so easy like that. We’re gonna do it again. Over and over and over,” he growled against your flesh.

Sweat had begun to form on your skin, on his skin, making him slick and difficult to hold onto. His hand returned to your hip, his hold tight.

You imagined you’d have bruises later. Not that it mattered. You’d heal from them within hours, but while they lasted, they would be badges of honour to remind you of your disciplinary actions.

The strength is all his as he moved you against him, rocking and squeezing your ass. Its soft pleasure after the two screaming orgasms, just enough to make you shudder and moan. The position is so intimate, so close, it sets your heart singing, your soul reaching for his in a joining as old as time.

_“Min modige kriger, mitt hjerte. Jeg elsker deg med alt jeg er.”_   The words leave you, tumble from your lips on a soft cry.

“Baby, I…” Regret laced his words as he lifted his head from your shoulder.

When his fingers returned to your clit, you drew yours up his throat to cup his cheek. Your noses brushed, lips whispering together, his arms continuing to flex and drive you to reach for the stars. “My brave warrior, my heart. I love you with everything I am.”

He surged, abs flexing, thighs clenching, thrusting up as you pulsed around him. The action had your head spinning and fire blossoming in your belly when you tumbled from the heights to fall into the safety of his arms. Gasping, crying out again, unable to believe it was so easy, Steve surprised you when he groaned heavily.

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered.

A bead of sweat ran down your spine, and you smiled. “Are _you_ gonna survive, _Captain_?”

He chuckled, hand shifting from your ass to the middle of your back. The other settled over your heart, urging you to lean away, changing the angle of his hard length inside you until the crown and thick ridge rubbed over your sweet spot.

“Oh, _shit_!” you squealed out when, somehow, he managed to slide you up and down his cock, his thumb returning to tease over your clit.

“Seeing as how your smart mouth still works, I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet, doll.”

A mantra of _fucks_ fell from your lips when the burn in your belly, the tightly wound coil, grew and grew, making you pant and gasp. Your hands dropped to his thighs behind you, needing something to hold onto. When hot, moist air brushed over your breast, lips closed over your nipple and tugged, you screamed to high heaven, body simply shattering from the mind-numbing release.

“ _Min Gud,_ Steven!” you swore, words failing you.

He was panting, his skin slick. Dragging you back up, he held you tight to him, sloppy lips skating over your mouth. “That’s really fucking hot,” he growled, teeth tugging your lip. “I ain’t got a clue what you’re saying, doll face, but it’s sexy as hell.”

Planting your feet on the bed, you undulated against him, using your newly returned strength to assist you. “ _Jeg vil ri deg til ingen av oss kan gå,”_ you purred in his ear, your arms wrapping tightly around him, hand sinking into his hair, dragging his head back so you could attack his throat, the thrumming beat like that of a hummingbird’s wings.

He gasped, jerking you down on him with far more force than before. “Was that dirty, baby? It sounded it.”

“Extremely, Captain,” you murmured, sucking a mark in his throat.

“What,” he gasped when you bit him. “What did you say?”

Using your nose to trace the line of his jaw back to his ear, you whispered near it, “I want to ride you until neither of us can walk.”

His hands clenched on your buttocks. A sharp intake of breath and swelling of his cock showed how much he liked that idea.

You laughed, feeling powerful and glorious in the arms of your _sjelevenn_.

A hand was buried in your hair, forcing your chin to lift. He ravaged your throat, surging up on his knees, spreading your thighs wide across his. At his mercy, unable to move with the band of his arm around you, he snapped his hips forward, the action harsh and swift, nearly punishing, until you were clinging to him, nails scoring his shoulders and back.

“Oh god, _fuck_ , _Steven_!” you wailed when the orgasm broke, rolling from one into the next until you felt light headed.  Everything pulsed, walls constricting around him, causing him to grunt with each retreat.

“So good, baby. Such a good girl,” he murmured, taking you to your back. “You ever gonna keep secrets from me again?”

You gave a slow shake of your head, body quaking with each delicious tremor still racing through you.

He brushed the hair from your face, wet with sweat and sticking to you. “You ever gonna run from me or think about leaving me again?”

“No,” you sighed, feeling floaty.

“No what?” he purred, kissing your face, leaving tender presses to your lips, nose and eyes.

“No… Captain,” you whimpered when he began to move again, long full strokes through your incredibly wet walls.

“One more, darlin’, just one,” he whispered, cheek brushing yours while he intertwined your fingers together. “You can do that for me, right?”

Whimpering, you nodded, already feeling the flutter in your belly.

“No more talk about _worth_ , baby. Worth has nothing to do with it. You’re mine, I’m yours, we’re in this together whatever comes,” he breathed against you, drawing your hands over your head. “You hear me, baby doll?”

Arching into him, slick skin sliding over slick skin, you whined at the pleasure humming through your veins. Every orgasm had been better than the last, each one reaching higher, lasting longer. This one was no different, building and building in your belly until you could focus on nothing but the stroking of his hard cock, the sweat dripping from him mixing with yours.

Three hard thrusts made you gasp.

“Do you _hear_ me, (Y/N)!” he barked.

“Yes, sir!” you cried.

“Good girl,” he whispered right before he bit you on the spot beneath your ear again.

Screaming in shock and pleasure, you core clamped around him, hard and fast, squeezing him tightly and making him groan, his control finally failing. The swift driving of his hips became erratic, an inhuman roar filling the room. Snapping his hips down, you felt the warmth when he swelled impossibly harder and succumbed to the milking of your body.

Collapsing slowly, he was careful not to fall on you, but his body still settled on yours, holding you there beneath him. Once his harsh panting had slowed, he detangled your fingers to cup your face, keeping it still for him. “No more foolish talk of leaving.”

“No more,” you agreed, knowing in your heart there was nowhere else for you but right here, with him, your soulmate, living and loving in whatever capacity you could.

“If you’ve got concerns, you need to talk to _me_ , not Bucky or anyone else. I want to hear them from you.”

“So, Buck ratted me out, did he?” you smiled, bringing your hands to his back and gently stroking his skin.

“As he should,” Steve huffed, brushing his nose over yours.

“He’s a blabbermouth.”

“He loves you. We all do, but mostly me,” he said quietly.

Bringing your knees to his hips, you shivered when he stirred within you, slowly growing hard again. “Stevie?”

“Can you blame me? I can’t get that idea of yours out of my head, doll face.”

Chuckling, you rocked against him. “You don’t have to be careful with me anymore, _Captain_. I won’t break.”

He’d always been concerned if he truly let loose he’d injure you. That wasn’t really a problem anymore.

With a quick move, he rolled to his back, keeping you close and remaining deep inside. Once he settled, he took your hands and set them on his chest. “You should touch, baby. Everything, everywhere. Make sure it’s all nicely sealed away in your memory.”

“Maybe I should,” you quipped, rocking over his lap. “ _Du gjør ganske fjellet,_ _sjelevenn,”_ you teased, smile smug.

“I can tell by the look you’re teasing me, woman,” he growled, but there was no heat in the words.

“I think you make a fine ride, a pleasing but… _vigorous_ mount to have between my thighs, Captain. Such fun.”

“Fuck,” he moaned when you slid over him. “You’re even mouthier, ain’t you, doll?”

Letting your hands walk his chest, find and enjoy all the muscles all over again, you smiled. “Guess you’ll have to find out. Aren’t you lucky?”

His grunt of pleasure when you shimmied on top of him was all the response you needed.

***

Hours later, after she’d damn near succeeded in her wish of not being able to walk after her ride, and a shower in which he helped her organize everything, so the bottles ran in sequence - shampoo, conditioner, body wash - so she would always know where they were, Steve lay curled around his girl on the bed.

Soft and pliant, body warm in sleep, he watched (Y/N) sleep peacefully for the first time in days.

Before arriving at his room, he’d expressly forbidden FRIDAY from allowing anyone to get ahold of them, refusing to be interrupted until he’d gotten to the bottom of all the things she’d told Bucky. He knew, for the moment at least, he’d assuaged enough of her fears to keep her going, to keep her positivity up.

Tucking his nose in her hair, he inhaled deeply the scent which wrapped around her. This, right here, was his happiness, and keeping his girl happy and healthy was priority number one. If that meant he needed to step back, take some time off to help her adjust, he would do so in a heartbeat.

No one could tell him he didn’t deserve a break, and there were enough of them now, Avengers both experienced and new, to handle what could be coming their way. But there was only him for (Y/N).

Half of what she’d revealed had nearly ripped out his heart. She was too damn good at hiding what she was feeling, having hidden her initial feelings from him for a year before this, but no more.

Soulmates or not, a relationship took work, trust, and honesty. It was past time she stopped hiding from him and started relying on him.

Tightening his arms around her limp form, he was nearly asleep himself when the soft chirp of his phone had his eyes opening. Reaching for it on the nightstand, he lifted it enough to see the message from FRIDAY. It read only:

_I found him._

Steve stared at it for a full five seconds, heart beginning to rampage, pound in his chest with the strength of a sledgehammer before he slowly extracted himself from the bed. Covering his girl with the thick duvet, hoping it would help retain his warmth, so she didn’t notice him missing, Steve left the room on silent feet.

Once the outer door shut, he ran for the lab, the one room that was nearly soundproof and, at this time of night, should be deserted.

Finding it dark, he murmured, “FRIDAY?”

“He’s here, Captain,” she said in her soft Irish lit, a screen flashing to life. A satellite image began flashing closer until the image shifted to the interior of a hotel on some island in the south pacific.

“Are you certain, and can you make contact?”

“Facial recognition has him at ninety-eight percent, and his companion at ninety-seven.”

Glancing at the file on the woman, Steve frowned but dismissed it for the moment. “Contact?”

“Neither is currently carrying a cell phone, but the woman at the table beside them is.”

“Call it,” he commanded, watching the happenings in real time thanks to FRIDAY’s hack of the hotel bar’s surveillance cameras. “I need you to mark the target in case they run.”

“Already done.”

Crossing his arms, he hummed in approval. “Good job.”

“Thank you, Captain.” She sounded pleased with herself, as she should be.

The ringing phone was picked up by the elderly woman at the table next to the couple. “Hello?”

“Ma’am, I need you to hand the phone to the man sitting to your right.”

“Excuse me?” she muttered.

“It’s a matter of great importance,” he fed urgency into his voice.

“Oh… oh, well then,” she was confused but turned to the man at the next table. “It’s for you.”

“Pardon?” he asked, cocking his head.

“Take the phone,” Steve said, knowing full well he’d hear.

Frowning, the man reached out, accepting it even as the dark-haired woman with him shook her head, her murmur quiet but indicating her dislike of the idea.

“Yes?” he said cautiously.

“Mr. Murdock,” Steve watched him stiffen in surprise. “My name is Steve Rogers, and I need your help.”

**_-Thus ends Sledgehammer. The story continues in Rise Up, where Steve and (Y/N) will face all new challenges as they learn to navigate a whole new world as well as what it means to be the Leader of the Valkyrjur.-_ **

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Bird in a Cage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18680167) by [Shinku130](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinku130/pseuds/Shinku130)




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